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Photographic 

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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  \^V'i 

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O' 


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D 
D 
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empreinte. 

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symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


rata 
> 


elure. 


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32X 


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• 

6 

SAUL: 


A  DRAMA,  IN  THREE  PARTS. 


BY 


CHARLES   'HEAVYSEGE, 


A   NEW  AND   REVISED  EDITION. 


BOSTON; 
FIELDS,    OSGOOD,    &    CO., 

SUCCESSORS   TO   TICKNOR   AND   FIELDS. 
1869. 


H8579 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

'■' 

FIELDS,     OSGOOD,    <fe    CO., 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


University  Press  :  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


S  AU  L. 


FIRST    PART 


Persons  Represented. 
Saul,  King  of  Israel.  , 

Jonathan,  his  Eldest  Son. 

Abner,  a  Relative  of  Saul,  and  a  General  in  his  Army. 
^AUV^i^  High  Priest  of  Israel. 
Jehoiadah,  a  Priest. 
Ahiah,  a  Priest. 

David,  a  Young  Shepherd,  and  subsequently  King  of  Israel. 

Jesse,  Father  of  David, 

Ahinoam,  Queen  of  Israel. 

Gloriel,  Chief  of  the  Celestial  Spirits. 

ZoE,  SauVs  Guardian-angel. 

Zm^miiKX,  controller  of  Malzah. 

ZxvH,  Chief  of  the  Evil  Spirits. 

Malzah,  the  "  Evil  Spirit  from  the  Lord.  " 

Zepho,  ZapVs  Messenger. 

Peyona,  an  Evil  Spirit,  and  consort  of  Malzah. 

Prophets,  Elders,  Messengers  from  Jabesh-Gilead, 
Officers,  Soldiers,  a  Courtier,  a  Levite,  a  Peas- 
ant, Saul's  Armor-Bearer,  Jonathan's  Armor- 
Bearer,  a  Physician,  Domestics  of  the  Palace,  &c. 


SAUL. 


ACT  I. 

SCENE    I. 

The  Hill  of  God,  with  the  Philistine  garrison  adjacent.  A 
number  of  Demons  dancing;  Zaph,  their  chief  observing 
them,  and  Zepho  gazing  intently  in  an  opposite  direction. 

Zaph. 
Gently ;  this  is  sacred  ground  : 
Foot  it  in  a  quiet  round. 
Zepho,  keep  a  keen  look-out, 
Whilst  yet  wilder  grows  the  rout. 

What  now  beholdest  thou  ? 

Zepho. 

A  rabble, 
Marching  here  with  moan  and  babble, 

r^c    1-  Zaph. 

<Jt  what  composed  ? 

Zepho. 
Of  prophets  mostly. 
With  solemn  sound  they  stalk  quite  ghostly  ; 


w 


6  •  SAC/L. 

And,  'midst  them,  one  whose  height  and  port 
Declare  him  of  superior  sort. 


Dost  thou  know  him  ? 


Zaph. 

Zepho. 
Methinks  I  do. 

Zaph. 
Strain  through  the  air  thy  lynx-Hke  view. 
{Aside.)  With  such  oft  angels  come  and  danger. 

Zepho. 

Yes,  now  I  know  the  towering  stranger  : 
His  name  is  Saul,  one  Kish's  son. 
His  father's  asses  lost,  he  'd  gone 
To  seek  them  ;  but  a  diadem 
Has  found  instead  of  finding  them  : 
And  they  now  found,  he  home  doth  steer, 
'Midst  plaintive  sound  approaching  here. 
Which  news  I  learned  as  late  in  Ramah, 
Unseen,  I  walked  ;  and  this  small  drama 
There  viewed  myself :  upon  Saul's  head 
A  cnise  of  holy  oil  saw  shed 
By  Samuel ;  who  then  hailed  as  king 
This  Saul,  and  kissed  him,  promising 
That  signs  should  happen  to  him  three, 
The  last  of  which  you  soon  shall  see  : 
Two  are  already.  . 

Zaph. 

Spirits  all, 
A  stranger  comes  whose  name  is  Saul. 
He  has  lately  been,  I  hear, 
By  Samuel,  Israel's  great  seer, 


SAUL.  y 

Anointed  to  hold  future  reign 

In  this  divinely-ruled  domain. 

With  him  come  prophets,  chanting  loud, 

And  others,  a  promiscuous  crowd. 

First  Demon. 
Then  dancing 's  over  I 

Second  Demon. 

'T  is  not  so  1 
Why  should  we  our  mirth  forego  ? 

Third  Demon. 
Thus  our  mirth  doth  ever  die  ! 

Second  Demon. 

Hearken  !  they  "Jehovah  !  "  cry. 
Lo  !  on  footsteps  slowly  falling, 
Loudly  on  Jehovah  calling, 
See  them  doleful  drawing  nigh. 

(Enter  Saul  and  a  company  of  Prophets  and  Spectators, 
the  Prophets  chanting.) 

Prophets. 
Jehovah  !  Jehovah  !  O  Israel's  God, 
In  pity  look  from  thine  abode 
Upon  us  low. 

Thou  who  once  brought  our  fathers  up 
From  Egypt,  and  made  Pharaoh  stoop, 
Stoop  thou  in  mercy  from  thy  throne, 
Descend  and  hearken  to  our  moan  ; 
Do  thou  strong  for  us  interpose  ; 
Oh,  look  again  on  Jacob's  woes  ! 


Third  Demon. 


This  is  dreary. 


^fjr 


8  SAUL. 

Fourth  Demon. 
I  'm  in  tears. 

Second  Demon. 
Dry  your  eyes,  and  ope  your  ears. 

Zaph. 

Keep  each  countenance  decorous  : 
A  solemn  scene  unfolds  before  us. 

Saul  {recitative). 
On  Jacob  thou  hast  looked,  O  Lord, 
According  to  thine  ancient  word. 

Fifth  Demon. 
He  knows  not  that. 

Zaph. 
Your  tongues  restrain  : 
The  prophets  now  will  chant  again. 

Prophets  {in  chorus). 

Thou  who  beholdcst  all  the  earth, 

Whose  ark  o'erthrew  the  God  of  Gath  ; 

From  Egypt's  bondage  brought  us  forth. 

Saved  us  from  Moab's  and  Ammon's  wrath  ; 

From  Amalek  and  Edom  saved 

Thy  people,  though  they  misbehaved  ; 

Who  gave  them  manna  from  the  skies, 

And  from  the  rock  bade  waters  rise  ; 

Long  led  them  toward  this  promised  land, 

Across  Arabia's  burning  sand, 

With  cloud  by  day  and  fire  by  night, 

An  awful  yet  celestial  hght,  — 

Jehovah,  hear,  swift  let  thy  spear 

Of  vengeance  terrify  our  foes  ! 

O  God,  attend  ;  thine  ear  down  bend  : 


SAUL, 

Oh,  let  the  time  of  sorrow  close,  — 
This  access  of  thine  Israel's  woes  ! 

Third  Demon. 

Were  this  not  better  than  the  last, 
1  now  from  hence  had  fled  aghast. 

Zaph. 
Hist: 

Let  not  a  syllabic  be  missed. 

Saul. 

The  Lord,  at  length,  hath  looked  upon 
His  heritage  :  your  cry  hath  gone 
Even  unto  his  holy  hill. 
God  shall  your  ardent  wish  lulfiJ. 

Prophkts. 
How  long,  how  long,  how  long,  O  Lord, 
Shall  Israel  mourn ! 

Saul. 
From  sorrow  turn. 

Prophets. 

Say,  Lord,  how  long  the  land  shall  be 
In  shadow  of  an  enemy : 
How  long  shall  we  with  outrage  meet, 
And  wrong  possess  the  judgment-seat  ? 

Saul. 

I  heard  the  Lord  arise  and  swear 
Jeshurun  was  his  special  care. 

Demons  {shouting  in  chorus). 

Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  !  beware,  beware  ; 
Such  was  once  our  special  fare : 


.'.'■y— .K^f  ifeii,  mimUM 


10 


SAUL. 


Mocketh  all  things  the  Creator, 
Mocketh  his  whole  realm  of  nature  ; 
Think  not  sons  of  earth  he  '11  spare 
"Who  smote  the  nobler  things  of  air. 

Prophets. 

O  God,  give  ear,  Jehovah,  hear  : 
Is  Israel  still  to  thee  not  dear? 
Didst  thou  not  once,  for  Abram's  sake, 
Them  thy  peculiar  people  make  ? 
O  God,  arise,  and  Amnion  shake  1 
Jehovah  1 


•  Demons. 
Prophets. 

Demons. 
Prophets. 

Demons. 

Prophets. 

Demons. 
He  '11  hear  anon  : 

Ha,  ha !  ha,  ha  !  pray  on,  pray  on. 


Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  ! 

Jehovah ! 

Ha,  ha  I  ha,  ha  ! 

Jehovah! 

Ha,  ha  1  ha,  ha! 

Almighty  one  I 


Oh,  heal  our  hurt 


Prophets. 

Demons. 
'T  is  princely  sport 

To  hear  them  sue  in  such  a  sort 

Zaph. 
Grow  not  too  loud  and  insolent ; 
Who  can  turn  God  from  his  intent  ? 


SAUL. 

Haply  He  indeed  hath  meant 

Good,  quick  coming  and  spread  wide, 

Over  Israel's  mourning  pride. 

Cease  your  laughter  ;  it  may  come  after. 

Fifth  Demon. 

Master,  it  is  many  a  day 

Since  thy  servants  grew  so  gay  ; 

Let  them  laugh,  then,  while  they  may. 


IX 


Zaph. 


Peace ;  Saul  sings. 


Saul  {air). 

O  Canaan  fair,  my  country  dear, 
Lo,  thy  deliverance  draws  near! 
The  spear  is  raised,  bent  is  the  how 
That  shall  thine  enemies  o'erthrow. 

II. 

Thy  grief  is  passed,  thy  mourning  done; 
Put  now  bright  Hope's  clean  garments  on: 
The  Lord  regards  thee  from  the  skies; 
He  bids  thee  from  the  dust  arise. 

III. 
Fair  Land  of  Promise,  clothe  in  smiles 
Thy  landscapes,  thy  neglected  piles; 
For  thou  shalt  be  redeemed  erelong 
From  foreign  foe,  domestic  wrong. 

IV. 

O  land  that  worship'st  the  true  God, 
Behold  on  high  his  outstretched  rod! 
Rise  !  bid  the  alien  from  thee  flee  : 
The  Lord,  the  Lord  is  yet  with  thee  ! 


iHiii 


12 


SAUL. 


First  Demon. 
This  seems  the  true  prophetic  veia. 

Third  Demon. 
Too  proud  by  far  that  lofty  strain. 

Fourth  Demon. 
He  is  deceived. 

Fifth  Demon. 
Yet  who  deceived  him  ?  "  . 

Zaph. 

There  hath  none 
With  a  lie  unto  him  gone. 

Second  Demon. 

'T  is  the  confidence  of  his  nature. 

Zaph. 
Rather  is  it  his  Creator 
Who  this  hour  him  works  upon. 

Sixth  Demon. 
'T  is  tedious  here. 

Zaph. 

Hence  let  us  hie ; 
Hark  !  I  hear,  though  faint  yet  clear, 
Spirits  coming  down  the  sky  ! 

{^The  Demons  vanish^  and  a  company  of  Angels,  conducted 
by  Gloriel,  descend.) 

Gloriel. 
I  heard  the  sound  of  spirits  quick  departing. 

First  Angel.  - 
Yonder  o'er  the  hills  they  're  darting. 


SAUL. 


13 


Gloriel. 

If  my  sentiment  be  true,  . 

They  who  lately  hence  withdrew 

Belong  unto  the  fallen  crew.  . 

Let  Saul  be  guarded  :  —  • 

Zoe,  to  thee  that  task 's  awarded  : 

Fare  thee  well.  \_Exeuni  Angels,  Zoe  remaining. 

A  Prophet. 

Tall  stranger,  whosoe'er  thou  art,  we  see 

That  God  is  with  thee ;  therefore  come  with  us. 

Saul. 

r  11  follow  you.   (Aside.)  Three  signs  were  promised  me, 
Which  have  in  kind  and  number  come  to  pass. 
Soon  as  I  Samuel  left,  my  heart  was  changed  ; 
And  now  I  feel  that  which  I  cannot  name  : 
Solemnity  and  courage  fill  my  soul, 
That,  war  intending,  yet  sits  throned  in  peace. 

[Exeunt  Saul  and  the  Prophets. 

Zoe.  - 

I  must  attend  him  whom  to  me  is  given 
To  guard  from  hell  and  gently  guide  towards  heaven. 

{Exit  Zoe. 

First  Spectator. 

Know  ye  the  name  of  yon  gigantic  figure, 
That,  eminent  o'er  all,  with  haughty  port, 
Enrapt  stood  prophesying,  and  now  stalks 
Like  some  great  purpose  hence  ? 

Second  Spectator. 

'Tis  Saul;  and,  lo  ! 
The  burden  of  his  words  was  hope  for  Israel 


i  a  I 


iiii 


14 


SAUL. 


Third  Spectator. 
Is  Saul  amongst  the  prophets  ? 

Second  Spectator. 

Thou  perceiv'st 
See  how  subhme  he  moves  !     To  free  the  land, 
Shangar  and  Sampson  were  not  hkeher. 

Fourth  Spectator. 

Speak  low.     Let 's  separate  ;  we  know  not  whether 
There  be  not  here  some  spy  of  the  Phihstines. 

\Exeunt. 

I. 

SCENE   II. 

Country  near  Gibeah.  Cattle  grazing  at  a  distance.  Saul,  after 
being  anoinf-cd  king  by  Samuel.,  has  returned  home  to  Gibeah^ 
and  is  there  occupied  as  formerly, 

Saul,  musing. 

How  tame  now  seems  to  me  this  herdsman  life  I 

Unprofitable  too  ;  naught  do  I  here, 

Naught  that  can  serve  good  purpose  :  I  am  like 

A  taper  that  is  left  to  burn  to  waste 

Within  an  empty  house.     Why  do  I  stay? 

Others  could  tend  these  herds  as  well  as  I,  — 

And  haply  better,  for  my  thoughts  are  far 

From  meads  and  kine,  and  all  the  servile  round 

Of  houochold  duties,  same  from  year  to  year,  —        , 

Alike  far  from  the  rural  dull  routine. 

And  traffic  of  the  town,  when  I  repair 

To  exchange  my  herds  and  corn  for  silver  shekels. 

\  et  I  will  bide  my  time  :  —  and  yet  the  steer 

I'uts  forth  his  horns  when  his  due  months  arrive, 

And  pushes  witli  them  though  they  be  but  tender ; 


SAUL 


»s 


Tlic  blade  starts  through  the  clod  in  spring  ;  the  leaf 
On  the  high  bough  sits  in  its  pride  of  green  : 
The  blossom,  punctual  to  its  season,  comes, 
Milk-white  or  ruddy  ;  and  the  perfect  fruit 
Appears  with  autumn  ;  nor  the  snow  doth  fail 
The  hoary  winter.     Doth  the  snake  not  shed 
Its  slough  ?  the  fledgling  leave  its  natal  nest  ? 
Twice  what  I  once  was  now  I  feel  to  be  ! 
Down,  proud  imagination  !  silence  keep, 
Thou  rash  impatience  !  —  and  yet  Samuel  said, 
"  Now  God  is  with  thee,  act  as  thou  seest  fit." 
What  should  I  do  ?     Deem  this  less  zeal  than  pride, 
And  here  in  all  tranquillity  abide.  \Exit 


SCENE   III. 

Contiguous  to  a  Hamlet. 
Enter  three  Hebrews  and  an  Elder. 


First  Hebrew. 
We  are  to  assemble,  sayest  thou,  to-morrow  ? 

Elder. 

To-morrow  to  Mizpeh  is  all  Israel  summoned ; 
There  to  receive  a  king  from  God  and  Samuel : 
Loudly,  with  others,  you  demanded  one. 

First  Hebrew. 

We  did  and  do  demand  one  ;  and  with  reason. 
For  Safhuel  is  grown  aged  and  his  sons 
Corrupt, 

Second  Hebrew. 

And  yet,  't  is  said  he  was  displeased 
At  our  resolve,  and  gave,  at  first,  no  answer. 


Ml 
I, 


i6 


SAUL. 


W: 


Bl 


Elder. 

He  did  from  us,  —  (for  I  was  one  of  those, 

Who  were  deputed  by  you  to  convey 

To  him  your  wish),  —  he  did  from  us  retire, 

As  we  supposed  to  ponder  your  request 

Alone,  and  lay  it  before  the  Lord  ;  but  soon 

Returned,  and  in  such  sad  and  solemn  style 

Foretold  the  issues  of  our  granted  wish. 

That,  for  a  season,  we  stood  wavering  ; 

As  might  the  headstrong  wind,  when,  having  blown 

Out  of  one  quarter  strongly,  on  a  sudden, 

As  if  uncertain  of  its  next  direction. 

It  restless  veers,  travelling  nor  east  nor  west, 

Nor  north  nor  south  ;  so  we,  surprised, 

Perplexed,  revolving,  and  not  knowing  whether 

To  retain  this  evil  or  accept  of  that. 

First  Hebrew. 
What  said  he  to  you .'' 

Elder. 

That  our  king  should  be 
Exacting  and  despotic  ;  that,  indeed. 
The  nation  no  immunity  should  have 
Beneath  his  rule,  —  naught  sacred  from  his  grasp : 
Our  sons,  our  daughters,  lands,  our  labor,  skill,  — 
In  fine,  our  all,  should  yield  to  him  subscription. 

Second  Hebrew. 

Already  a  tenth  the  Levites  are  endowed  with. 

Elder. 

He  said  our  king  would  tithe  the  residue. 

First  Hebrew. 
To  that  your  answer  ? 


SAUL.  17 

Third  Hebrew. 

Did  you  not  remonstrate  ? 

Elder. 
We  still  preferred  your  prayer,  —  "  Give  us  a  king." 

Second  Hebrew. 

But  did  you  not  make  stipulations  ?  urge 
Abatement  of  those  hard  prerogatives  ? 


No 


Elder. 
for  how  could  we,  seeing  they  were  rather 


Foretold  by  the  grieved  prophet  than  ordained  ; 
As  though  the  king  would  don  them  with  his  crown, 
And  wear  them  as  his  true  and  natural  garment. 

Third  Hebrew. 

I  wish  that  I  had  but  been  of  your  number ! 
I  would  have  spoken  boldly  for  the  nation. 
What  1  were  you  not  our  representatives  ? 

Elder. 

What  could  we  save  reiterate  your  prayer,  — 
"  Let  us  be  governed  like  to  other  peoples  ; 
Let  a  king  rule  us  in  the  days  of  peace. 
And  lead  to  battle  in  the  hour  of  war" ? 

Third  Hebrew. 
Here 's  a  dilemma  1 

♦  First  Hebrew. 

Well,  I  will  repair 
To  Mizpeh  to-morrow,  and  behold  the  man 
Who  shall  hereafter  in  the  name  of  king 
Cause  us  to  tremble.     Will  he  dream  to-night 


i8 


SAUL. 


it! 


Of  his  approaching  fortune  ?     If  the  choice 
Should  fall  on  me,  woe  falls  on  you,  good  men. 

Elder. 

Approach  this  crisis  in  a  proper  spirit ; 
For  it  will  be  the  Lord  to-morrow  at  Mizpeh, 
And  by  his  grace  shall  reign  whom  then  is  chosen. 

Third  Hebrew. 

'Twixt  King  and  Levite  little  will  be  left  us.  — 
I  shall  not  go  to  Mizpeh. 

Elder.     •        i 

Thither  go, 
At  the  grave  summons. 

Second  Hebrew. 

Grave  it  is  for  all ; 
But  most  for  those  who  have  fair  wives  and  daughters. 

First  Hebrew. 
The  King  would  take  our  wives  ? 

Third  Hebrew. 

Would  he  'd  take  mine  ! 

*  Second  Hebrew. 

He  'd  lake  our  sons  if  strong. 

First  Hebrew. 

Ourselves  if  skilful. 

Second  Hebrew. 

Our  property,  our  lands.  —  Unjust  and  cruel !  — 
I  know  not  whether  I  shall  go  or  not. 


SAUL.  iQ 

First  Hebrew. 
What  have  we  done  in  our  dim  discontent  I 

Third  Hebrew. 
None  than  yourselves  have  been  more  loud  for  change. 

Second  Hebrew. 
Yes,  for  a  change  from  bad  to  better  ;  —  but  this 
Were  to  exchange  gray  twilight  for  black  darkness. 
Beshrew  our  folly !   there 's  worse  state  than  Priest- 

dom.  — 
Still,  let 's  prepare  to  start  betimes  to-morrow, 

{Exeunt  the  three  Hebrews. 

Elder. 
Thus  are  we  ever  stricken  with  dismay 
When  Heaven  has  granted  our  undue  desires.  — 
These  men  are  daunted  at  their  answered  prayer, 
And  wear  but  ill  their  countenance  of  courage. 

{Exit. 


SCENE   IV. 

Mizpeh. 
Sound  of  a  multitude  at  a  distance.   Enter  Hebrews,  meeting. 

First  Hebrew. 
Say,  have  you  seen  the  king  ? 

Second  Hebrew. 

The  king  we  Ve  seen. 
Third  Hebrew. 
And  so  have  we.     How  seems  he  to  your  eyes  ? 


•o 


SAUL. 


Fourth  Hebrew. 

A  lion,  and  a  tiger,  and  a  man. 

Agreed  to  dwell  in  one  grand,  gloomy  den. 

First  Hebrew. 

If  his  spirit  answers  to  his  form,  —  and  I 
Believe  it  does,  —  he  is  the  very  being 
For  our  occasion  ;  which  has  grown  so  foul, 
It  needs  the  Evil  One  to  scour  it  fair  ; 
And  I  suppose,  from  your  description,  sir, 
He  is  that  personage. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 
I  do  not  jest. 

First  Hebrew. 


Nor  I. 


Fourth  Hebrew. 
Hast  thou  not  seen  him  ? 


:n 


Fifth  Hebrew. 

'  Seen  him  !   Yes  : 

T'  avoid  it  would  have  been  most  difficult. 
E'en  taller  by  the  shoulders  than  the  crowd 
He  moved  ;  and  loftier  bore  his  head  above  it 
Than  bears  a  swimmer  his  above  the  waves. 
From  every  point  he  was  conspicuous. 

Second  Hebrew. 
He 's  of  strong  passions  doubtless. 

Third  Hebrew. 

I  observed, 
When  Samuel  told  us  that  we  had  rejected 
God's  rule  in  asking  for  ourselves  a  king. 


SAUL. 


21 


His  countenance  fell,  surprised  :  and  I  remarked 
He  bit  his  lips,  and  symptoms  of  displeasure 
Spread  o'er  his  face  ;  but  soon  they  passed  away, 
And  left  him  as  before. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 

Did  ho  foreknow 
He  was  the  great  king  coming  ? 

First  Hebrew. 

Fitness  always 
Knows  whether  it  be  worthy,  though  it  knows 
Not  whether  'twill  be  chosen  :  and  although 
Incompetency  oft  mistakes  its  meed, 
Ability  ne'er  does.     It  is  a  foolish 
Saying,  "  The  wise  know  not  their  wisdom,  nor 
The  fair  their  beauty." 

Fourth  Hebrew. 

Then,  't  was  surely  strange 
He  should  conceal  himself  amongst  the  baggage. 

Third  Hebrew. 
But  when  they  found  him,  marked  you  not  his  mien  ? 
Thence    slow    he    came,   and    seemed    to    know   his 

worth  :  — 
And  once  I  fancied  that  he  looked  too  proud  ; 
Contemplating  with  a  disdainful  look 
The  myriads  around  him.  —  Hark  !  they  shout. 

[Shouts  of  '•  God  save  the  King  I " 
Let's  join  the  throng.  Rolls  hitherward  the  rout.  \Exeunt. 

(Enter  Saul,  a  band  of  Hebrews  following  him.) 

Saul. 

You  say  you  will  go  with  me  ?    Then,  so  be  it.  — 
If  prompted,  follow  me  and  be  the  ball, 


39 


SAUL, 


Tiny  at  first,  that  shall,  like  one  of  snow 
Gather  in  rolling. 

A  Hebrew. 

We  will  follow  thee 
Wherever  thou  shalt  lead. 

Saul. 

To  Gibeah,  then  ; 
And  you  shall  soon  have  scope  to  prove  you  men. 

[Exeunt  omnes. 


1 1 

!   » 


ii 


SCENE  V.      ^ 

TTie  country  near  Gibeah.     Saul,  returning  from  the  field^ 
observes  the  people  weeping, 

Saul. 
Why  do  the  people  weep  ?  i 

A  Hebrew. 

Oh,  sorrow,  sorrow  ! 
Thou  too  wilt  weep  when  thou  hast  learnt  the  cause. 
Nahash  the  king  of  Ammon  has  besieged 
Jabesh-Gilead,  which  has  promised  to  surrender 
In  seven  days,  if  sooner  none  relieve  it : 
And  on  this  sore  condition,  that  the  wretch 
Shall  pluck  out  the  right  eye  of  every  man 
Within  the  place,  that  with  the  hideous  deed 
He  may  reproach  hereafter  every  Hebrew. 

Saul. 

Hear  me,  O  God  !  Jehovah,  hear  thy  servant ! 

So  be  it  done  to  me  and  unto  all 

To  me  belonging,  yea,  and  tenfold  more,  — 


SAUL. 


23 


If  inoro  can  be  by  \W\\\g  man  endured, — 

If  I  shall  fail  to  drive  this  monster  back. 

Ye  shapes  of  wrath,  avenging  cherubim, 

Ye  scourges  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 

Ye  dark,  destroying  angels  that  forth  fly 

To  do  heaven's  judgments,  turn  your  course  towards 

him,  — 

Go,  hither  send  the  bearers  of  this  news. 

[Exit  Hebrew. 

Now,  every  motive  that  can  bring  fierce  strength 

To  my  resolve,  come  double  to  my  heart : 

Hear  me  again,  O  God,  vouchsafe  to  listen. 

If  I  should  not  perform  beyond  my  vow, 

May  I  and  all  in  Israel  be  disfigured  ; 

Woman,  yr  .-th  and  maiden,  child  and  infant,  all 

Be  brought  .0  total  darkness.     Dusky  fiend, 

Who  would  come  on  us,  bringing  demi-night, 

And  quench  forever  half  our  light  of  <iay  ' 

{The  Hebrew,  re-entering  with  the  Messengers.) 

Behold  those  here  who  can  thine  anger  raise. 

Saul,  to  the  Messengers. 

Go,  tell  the  men  of  Jabesh-Gilead 

To  fear  not  that  foul  Whelp  of  Twilight,  Nahash  : 

They  shall  have  aid. 

A  Messenger. 

Seven  days  he  has  given  us  ; 
And  if  in  that  time  we  be  not  relieved. 
Submit  we  must  unto  his  ruthless  terms. 

Saul. 
Away ;  fear  not. 

[Exeunt  the  HEBREWS  and  MESSENGERS. 

No  further  words  ;  let  deeds 

Come  next.     Now,  herds  and  flocks,  a  last  adieu  : 


w 


I 


i 


IIP!;. 


('I 


11 


A' 


24 


SAC/L. 


Men  henceforth  are  my  flock,  my  pasture  Canaan  : 
I  will  forthwith  to  Bezck,  and  there  raise 
My  standard  ;  then  woe  be  to  them  who  follow 
Not  Saul  and  Samuel  1 


SCENE   VI. 

Near  Bezek.     77ie  gathering  of  the  Hebrews.     Time,  evening. 
Saul  standing  upon  an  eminence. 

Saul. 

The  ground  is  hidden  with  men  ;  the  heights  appear 
Like  rousdd  ant-hills,  and  the  valleys  swarm 
With  moving  life.     Where  will  these  myriads  be 
In  fifty  summers  ?  even  in  thirty  years 
Half  of  these  multitudes  will  gorge  the  grave : 
In  twenty  more  ij  miserable  remnant 
(Drained  of  the  force,  if  not  the  fiery  courage, 
That  brings  them  here  to-day)  will  sole  remain 
To  tell  of  deeds  as  yet  undone  :  —  in  fifty 
Summers  to-morrow's  uncommencdd  feat 
Shall  be  a  hoary  tale  ;  yon  thronging  actors  — 
Each  now  impatient  to  perform  his  part  — 
Shall  most  be  quiet  in  the  peaceful  grave  : 
Even  as  the  snow-drifts  left  on  Lebanon  '*' 

In  the  hot  days  of  June,  few,  few  they'll  be. 

{Enter  MESSENGERS  of  the  inhabitants  of  yabesh-Gilead.) 

Haste  on  to  Jabesh-Gilead,  lest  should  fail 

The  hearts  of  its  inhabitants,  to  yield 

Themselves  precipitately  to  the  Dog, 

In  the  fond  hope  thereby  to  soften  him : 

To-morrow,  by  the  time  the  sun  is  high. 

They  shall  have  help  :  quick,  get  you  over  Jordan  ! 


SAUL. 

First  Messenger. 
If  ever  blessing  fell  on  man,  mayest  thou 
Be  blest,  our  meant  deliverer  from  shame  ; 
For  is  not  Samuel  with  thee,  and  with  him 
Is  not  the  Lord,  as  once  at  Eben-ezer ! 


Saul. 


Go  ;  I  will  succor  you. 


Second  Messenger. 

The  winds  of  heaven 
Behind  thee  blow  ;  and  on  our  enemies' eyes 
May  the  sun  smite  to-morrow,  and  blind  them  for  thee  ; 
But,  O  Saul,  do  not  fail  us  ! 

Saul. 

Fail  ye  !     No  : 
Let  the  morn  fail  to  break  ;  I  will  not  break 
My  word.     Haste,  or  I  'm  there  before  you.     Fail  1 
Let  the  morn  fail  the  e.ist ;  i  '11  not  fail  you, 
But,  swift  and  silent  as  the  streaming  wind, 
Unseen  approach,  then,  gathering  my  force 
At  dawning,  sweep  on  Amnion,  as  Night's  blast 
Sweeps  down  from  Carmel  on  the  murky  sea. 
Our  march  is  through  the  darkness.     Now  begone  ; 
We  '11  hear  no  further  till,  our  task  be  done. 

[Exemii  MESSENGERS. 
If  gratitude  aid  earnest  prayer,  from  them. 
Who  have  srch  cause  for  either,  be  a  pledge 
Of  coming  victory,  we  sliall  to-morrow 
Have  given  the  idolaters  a  wound 
That  all  the  balm  of  Gilead,  which  they  claim, 
Will  not  suffice  to  heal :  —  a  wound  so  deep, 
That  they  will  think  grini  Jephthah  lives  again  : 
Or  that  the  old  Zamzummim  giants,  whom 


11 


2« 


SAUL, 


Their  sires  destroyed,  have  sent  a  soul  from  hades 

Who  comes  incarnate,  leading  Israel's  ire  ; 

So  dearly  shall  this  haughty  siege  yet  cost  them. 

Our  forces  are  beginning  the  swift  march. 

Which  must  continue  through  the  coming  night : 

I  will  descend  and  lead  them,  as  is  fit.  {Exit. 


SCENE   VII. 

The  vicinity  of  yabesh-Gilead.      Time,  dawn. 
,..  to  and  fro. 

Saul. 


Saul,  pacing 


The  day  breaks  calmly,  howsoe'er  it  end  ; 

And  nature  shows  no  great  consent  with  man, 

Curtailing  not  the  slumber  of  the  clouds, 

Nor  rising  with  the  clarion  of  the  wind 

To  blow  his  signals.     I  o'erhear  the  foe 

Arousing  hastily  his  sleeping  legions: 

Ammon  perceives  us.     Wherefore  comes  not  Abner  ? 

Abner,  entering. 
We  're  ready  to  assault.  , 

Saul. 
And  so  am  I. 
Thy  force  lead  as  1  bade  thee.     Jonathan 
His  orders  has  :  like  thee,  he'll  quit  him  well. 
Prompt  let  us  be,  and  not  more  prompt  than  fell. 

{Exit  Abner. 
"  Prompt  "  is  the  word  upon  the  tongue  of  time, 
From  day  to  day  on  echoing  through  the  years, 
That  glidr  away  into  eternity, 
Whispering  the  same  unceasing  syllable. 


SAUL. 


27 


Boy,  bring  my  arms  !  —  not  now  we  '11  moralize, 
Although  to  fight  it  needs  that  some  must  fall. 
When  this  day's  work  is  done,  and  serious  night 
Disposes  to  reflection  and  gives  leisure, 
We  will  review  the  slaughter's  bygone  hours, 
And,  while  from  earth  to  heaven  ascends  a  dew. 
Distilled  from  blood  now  throbbing  through  its  veins, 
Sorrow  for  whom  we  must.     Till  then  we'll  act: 
Survive  who  may,  retain  who  shall  his  breath, 
We  '11  now  assault,  and  'gin  the  work  of  death. 

(Enter  a  youth,  bringing  the  shield  of  Saul.) 
Why  loitered'st  thou  .''     (2uick,  give  to  me  my  shield  ; 
Now  quit  thee  well  on  this  thy  virgin  field. 

\Exeunt,  and  a  sound  of  trumpets  heard,  with  an  increas- 
ing noise  of  the  onset.  At  length  Ammonitish  soldiers 
are  seen  fleeing  across  the  hills,  and  HebrrM  soldiers 
in  pursuit.  Enter  an  Ammonitish  Soldier,  a 
Heb rew  pursuing  him. 

Hebrew. 
Die,  cursed  Ammonite ! 

Ammonite. 

Oh  spare  me,  spare  me ! 

Hebrew. 
We  well  can  spare  thee  :  die  ! 

[Kills  him,  and  exit;  and  enter  another  Ammonitish 
Soldier,  pursued  by  a  Hebrew. 

Ammonite. 
Here,  fifty  shekels  for  my  ransom  take  ! 

Hebrew. 

Dost  offer  me  what  I  shall  win  perforce  ? 
Though  thou  hadst  fifty  lives,  I  fifty  times 
Would  take  the  fifty,  though  thou  offered  me 


,.  r 


,m 


m 


28 


SAUL. 


Full  fifty  shekels  for  each  several  life. 

Die.     {JPlundering  him?)     Wretch,  I   take  thy  shekels, 

and  for  them 
I  give  to  thee  thy  meed,  —  mortality. 

\^Exit^  and  enter  a  Hebrew  Officer  and  mm. 

Officer. 

Vouchsafe  no  quarter  to  the  enemy. 

This  moment,  money  must  not  mercy  buy. 

[Exeunt,  and  enter  another  Hebrew  Officer  with  men. 

Officer. 

Grant  but  quick  death  unto  the  Ammonites  : 
They  are  the  driven  sand,  and  ye  the  whirlwind. 
[Exeunt,  and  enter  yet  another  Hebrew  Officer  with  men. 

Officer. 

Urge  after  them  :  the  foe  before  you  flies 

On  wings  of  wild  astonishment  and  terror. 

In  loose  array  our  army  presses  Ammon's, 

That  broken  speeds  past  rallying  ;  and  both  drive 

Like  two  black,  ragged  clouds  before  the  gale. 

[Exeunt,  passing  across  the  field,  and  enter  Abner  with 
others. 

Abner. 
Still  onward,  men  ;  and  do  not  stop  for  breath, 
So  long  as  Ammonites  are  yet  in  view. 

[Exeunt,  passing  across  the  field,  and  enter  Jonathan 
with  others. 

Jonathan. 

Pray  that  the  sun  and  moon  again  stand  still  ; 
And  if  they  may  not,  outstrip  you  fleet  Time, 
The  never-tiring  racer  :  speed  your  heels, 
And  in  the  moments  do  the  work  of  years. 
Now  is  the  hour  of  vengeance  :  sternly  slay  ; 


SA  UL. 


29 


Check  not  your  steps  ;  press  forward  while  you  may ; 
Wield  well  the  sword  till  Saul  shall  bid  you  stay. 

\^Exeunt^  folloioed  by  the  rest  of  the  army  in  a  straggling 
and  irregular  manner. 


SCENE   VIII. 

Another  pa. 't  of  the  Country. 

^nter  Saul  and  a  Trumpeter,  Officers  and  Soldiers. 

Saul. 

Now  let  the  trumpet  sound  the  call  to  halt, 

No  two  of  the  pale  foe  are  left  together, 

And  all  have  thrown  away  their  arms  :  indeed, 

So  quick  a  thaw  I  never  knew  before. 

Nor  vapor  melted  faster  into  naught. 

Look,  and  say  what  remains  within  the  view. 

First  Officer. 

Save  where  yon  quarry  flees  before  our  hounds 
(Forgive  the  use  of  such  a  simile), 
The  landscape  shows  no  trace  of  Ammonites, 
Who  've  gone  much  faster  than  they  came,  and  left 
Behind  them  baggage,  and  rich  spoils  of  war. 

Second  Officer. 

This  day  they  will  remember  long  as  they 
Shall  keep  a  calendar.     Boy,  blow,  and  let 
Thy  full  heart  leap  into  thine  instrument, 
And  dance  for  joy  a  measure  :  in  thy  horn 
Thou  wilt  not  stumble  o'er  the  stony  dead. 

[The  Trumpeter  blows  the  rcdxU. 


If 


I!  i 


30 


SA  UL. 


li 


*■•, 


Saul. 

Welcome  that  blast,  the  signal  of  reprieve 

To  yonder  routed  remnant,  that  must  else 

Have  fled  before  the  hornets  of  our  arms, 

Until  the  total  and  tormented  host, 

As  by  flying  scorpions,  had  been  stung  to  death. 

Even  yet  there  is  a  sting  within  our  souls, 

That  goads  us  once  again  along  to  sail. 

As  dragons  of  the  desert,  after  them, 

With  standards  spreading  like  wide,  wasteful  wings. 

[/Returning  his  sword  to  the  scabbard. 
But  let  us  sheathe  these  trenchant  ministers  ; 
For,  by  the  souls  for  whom  they've  hewn  a  passage 
Unto  some  far,  mysterious  gehenna. 
Or  to  the  troubled  sepulchre  of  the  air. 
They  have  well  done.     Behold  of  plain  and  hill 
They,  aided  by  the  bow  and  spear,  have  made 
A  very  shambles  with  the  enemy's  slain, 
That  lie  in  heaps  before  the  walls  of  Jabesh, 
And  thence  to  this  grow  fewer,  like  the  drops 
Of  blood  sore  oozing  from  the  savage  beast, 
Fleeing  before  the  hunter  till  't  is  drained. 
We  have  drained  this  day  the  pride  of  Ammon.    Lo  ! 
As  when  October  strews  the  land  with  leaves, 
So  hath  our  fury  larded  it  with  dead. 
And  yet  I  pity  them,  poor  breathless  wretches ! 
And  gladly  would  revive  them,  if  I  could, 
Would  not  the  exasperating  memory 
Of  those  dire  terms  provoke  me  to  rekill  them. 

Third  Officer. 

Would  Saul  reanimate  the  ruffians,  who 

From  Jabesh-Gilead  might  have  crossed  the  Jordan } 

Would  he  one  Ammonite  the  less  had  suffered  ? 


>- 


SAUL. 


31 


Saul. 

No :  they  are  all  too  few,  though  many,  since 
Nahash  is  not  amongst  them.     For  his  fault 
They  fell,  huge  holocausts  of  Nahash's  cattle, 
Who,  in  an  ill  hour,  drove  them  to  this  slaughter. 

[Enter  Jonathan,  folltnved  by  Officers  and  Soldiers. 
How  fares  it  with  our  son  ? 

Jonathan. 

How  fares  my  father  t 

Saul. 
Well,  as  it  ought,  so  ill-faring  with  our  foes, 
Who  '11  rue  the  day  wherein  they  crossed  our  borders. 

Jonathan. 
But  few  of  them  remain  to  retraverse  them 
Who  lately,  big  with  meditated  pagans, 
Came  gayly  tripping  o'er  the  hills,  but  now, 
In  lieu  of  chanting  lyrics  of  loud  joy. 
Upon  the  lowly  ground  lie  dead  and  dumb, 
Or  only  live  to  breathe  forth  lamentation.    - 

One  of  Jonathan's  Officers. 
Ere  the  recall's  far-pealing  note  had  reached  us, 
Our  soldiers  were  disputing  for  the  victims 
They  had  so  far  diminished. 

Fourth  Officer. 

Can  it  be 

That  we  so  soon  have  reaped  so  rank  a  field. 

And  scuffle  for  the  gleanings  !     Nahash  has 

Escaped  us. 

Second  Officer. 

Greater  curse  yet  overtake  him  ! 

May  lightnings  sear  his  sight,  and  may  nor  sun 

Nor  the  sweet  stars  again  by  him  be  seen. 


Ill 


f  I 


•  i 

I 

,i 


w, 


n 


IP     ''!'! 


i;i 


32 


SAUL. 
First  Officer. 


f 


Thou  Moon,  rise  not  to  him  ;  nor  break  again 
On  him,  thou  Dawn. 

Third  Officer. 

Ye  hearth,  ye  altar  fires, 
Expire  when  he  looks  on  you. 

Fourth  Officer. 

Ye  women's  eyes, 
Unto  his  gaze  seem  bleared  with  sudden  age, 
Or  show  but  horror. 

First  Officer. 

Yea,  let  all  bright  things  — 
Eyes,  gems,  sun,  stars,  noon,  dawn,  domestic  fire, 
And,  what  the  maiming  monster  loves  yet  more. 
The  lustre  of  the  sword,  shield,  chariot,  — 
War's  glare,  —  be  dark  unto  him  as  the  grave. 

Jonathan. 

Amen,  amen  !  —  See  how  my  father 's  rapt. 
I  '11  speak  to  him.     Father,  but  yesterday 
These  Ammonites  at  Israel  scoffed  secure. 
To-day  they  are  destroyed. 

Saul. 

Like  waving  ears 
Of  lusty  corn,  upright  we  are  to-day  ; 
To-morrow  are  laid  low  by  the  fell  sickle 
Of  something  unforeseen. 

Jonathan. 

Now  Jabesh-Gilead 
May  in  all  safety  point  scorn's  hving  finger 


SA  UL. 


Zl 


At  the  cold  heaps  of  dead  around  her  walls  ; 

And  boys  and  women,  yea,  and  tottering  hags, 

Go  pull  them  by  the  beard,  or,  with  their  nails, 

Extract,  unchecked,  pale  corses'  eyeballs,  angling 

Unhurt  within  those  reservoirs  of  tears  : 

Yea,  out  of  dead  men's  mouths  may  pluck  the  tongues 

That  yesterday  at  this  hour  bullied  them. 

Saul. 

Who  tower  in  triumph  grovel  in  defeat. 

See  how  the  birds  are  gathering  to  the  feast  ! 

Thus  death  feeds  life,  that  is  the  prey  of  death. 

Yonder  behold  the  stealthy  fox  comes  forth, 

Like  a  camp-follower,  to  rob  the  dead  ! 

And,  lo  1  the  unclean  kite  draws  nearer,  as 

The  vanguard  of  the  volant  scavengers. 

Let  us  return,  and  leave  it  for  the  vulture, 

Smelling  the  odor  of  mortality. 

To  hasten  here,  and  batten.  —  But  who  comes  ! 

Bid  blow  the  trumpets,  and  outroll  the  drums. 

\Trumpets  sound,  and  drums  are  beaten,  and  SAMUEL 
enters,  follaived  by  a  crowd. 

Samuel. 
Hail,  Saul,  anointed  of  the  Lord  1     Great  hail 
I  give  thee,  son  to  whom  the  Lord  hath  given 
To  lead  his  people,  that  ye  both  might  drink 
Deep  vengeance  and  o'erflowing  victory, 
Baring  for  Israel  his  warlike  arm  : 
Great  hail  I  give  thee  ;  and  from  these  all  hail ! 
[Acclamation  of  the  multitude,  and  signs  of  great  joy.) 

Saul. 
Hail,  holy  seer  I  hail,  men  of  Israel ! 
Ye  men  of  Israel,  thank  the  Lord  to-day  ; 


Wf 


■H 


Eli  I 


34 


SAUL. 


1    19 


For  't  is  his  power  that  hath  before  you  driven 
Nahash  and  all  the  Ainmonitish  crew. 
A//  did  I  say  ?  how  little  now  their  all  ! 
You  have  destroyed  them  in  their  arrogance  ; 
You  have  dissolved  them  with  the  wand  of  change. 
Last  evening  they  lay  down  amidst  their  camp, 
That  gleamed  in  starlight  ;  but  no  more  shall  they 
See  stars  nor  morning,  for  their  eyelids  fast 
Are  sealed  by  frosty  death.     Where  now  is  Nahash  ? 
Fallen,  fallen  is  the  cruel  pride  of  Ammon ! 
Its  warriors  strew  for  many  a  league  our  land, 
And  the  wild  beasts  devour  them  :   they  shall  have 
No  grave  except  the  fox's  maw,  and  belly 
Of  unclean  beasts  ;  while  with  their  sires  shall  lie 
But  few  of  those  fast-footed  fugitives. 
For  as,  with  herd-like  trampling  of  their  flight, 
The  dust-cloud  rose,  we  laid  it  in  their  blood. 
Dearly  they  've  paid  for  their  grim  proposition  ! 
Let  them  come  seek  their  slain,  unless  tears  blind 
Those  who,  with  bloody  deeds,  had  this  day  thought 
To  have  blinded  others.     Let  Nahash  gnash  his  teeth  ; 
Now  let  him  howl  at  home,  and  ask  his  gods 
Wherefore  they  thus  forsook  him.     Joy,  O  joy  1 
The  God  of  Israel  is  above  all  gods  ! 
{^Rennved  acclamation. ) 

One  of  the  Multitude. 

Let  those  who  said  "  Shall  Saul  reign  over  us  ?  ** 
Be  put  to  death  ! 

Another. 
Yes,  let  them  die. 

Many  at  once. 

They  shall. 


SAUL. 
Saul. 


35 


To-day  no  man  shall  suffer  death,  for  God 
To-day  hath  saved  and  gladdened  Israel. 

{Further  acclamation,  and  cries  of  ^^  God  save  the  Kingt" 
•'  God  save  King  Saul  1 " ) 

Samuel. 
Now  let  us  go  to  Gilgal,  and  there  crown  him. 
[Exeunt  all,  amidst  acclamations  and  flourishing  of  trumpets. 


SCENE   IX. 

The  Country.     Enter  Hebrews. 

First  Hebrew. 
Pray,  which  of  you  were  at  the  coronation  ? 

Second  Hebrew. 


I. 


First  Hebrew. 
And  how  went  it  ? 


Second  Hebrew. 

Well,  mixed  up  with  ill. 

First  Hebrew. 
What  happened  ?  did  the  people  change  their  minds  ? 

Second  Hebrew. 

No,  but  we  had  committed  a  great  sin 

In  asking  for  a  king  ;  so  Samuel  told  us, 

And,  to  confirm  his  saying,  called  jn  God 

To  send  down  rain  and  thunder,  though  't  was  harvest. 


t 


36 


SAUL. 


FiitsT  Hkbrevv. 
Ah,  then  your  revelry  was  changed  to  sorrow. 

Second  Hebrew. 

'T  was,  for  a  while  ;  but  Samuel  reassured  us  ; 

Showing  us  that,  as  in  the  past,  Jehovah 

Had  saved  us  by  Jerubaal,  Bedan,  Jephthah, 

So  he  would  now  —  if  we  were  faithful  to  him  — 

By  our  anointed  king.     Yet  was  it  fearful 

To  see  the  sky  fast  darken,  and  to  hear 

The  thunder-growl  approaching,  until  one 

Broad  flash  of  lightning  quivered  from  the  clouds, 

And  hung  above  us,  glaring  like  the  eye 

Of  God  dread  gazing  on  us  in  his  wrath. 

All  trembled,  all  stood  mute,  excepting  some 

Who,  motionless,  low  muttered  deprecation. 

Few  dared  uplift  their  eyes  ;  and  the  hurled  deluge, 

Smoking  upon  the  ground,  that  shook  with  din 

Beneath  us  seemed  to  speak  intense  displeasure. 

First  Hebrew. 
How  then  looked  Samuel  ? 

Second  Hebrew. 
Rapt. 

First  Hebrew. 

And  Saul  ? 

Second  Hebrew. 

I  saw  him  stand,  methought,  half  frov.T  Ing  ;  but 
Terror  so  shook  me  and  confused  my  ?'ght, 
That  scarce  I  knew  what  was  and  what  was  not. 


! 


Third  Hebrew. 


This  augurs  ill. 


SAUL. 

Second  Hebrkw, 

The  worst  is  past,  and  all 
Depends,  *t  would  seem,  on  us  and  our  behavior. 

Fourth  Hehrkw. 
What  else  said  Samuel  ? 

Second  Hehrkw. 

Much.     He  challenged  us 
To  prove  injustice  'gainst  him  in  his  rule  ; 
And,  in  the  event  of  it,  offered  restitution. 

Fifth  Hebrimt. 
Referred  he  to  his  sons'  flagitious  doings  ? 


37 


No. 


Second  Hebrew. 


Fourth  Hebrew. 
Let  their  evil  in  his  good  be  lost ; 
As  is  the  filthy  and  defiling  smoke 
Lost  in  the  purer  air. 

Fifth  Hebrew. 
Yet  recollections 
Will  stick  like  smuts  upon  one's  memory : 
And  Samuel's  whiteness,  though  it  may  reflect 
A  light  on  his  sons'  blackness,  but  thereby 
Doth  show  it  forth  more  ugly  than  we  thought  it ; 
And  they  unfitter  seen,  or  now  to  aid  him 
Or  to  succeed  hereafter  ;  their  demerits. 
Illuminated  by  his  worthiness, 
Showing  yet  greater  than  they  first  were  fancied  ; 
As  an  apartment's  dusty  atmosphere, 
With  bars  of  golden  sunshine  streaming  through  it, 
Shows  more  polluted  than  had  been  imagined. 
But  let  that  pass  :  what  more  declared  the  prophet.? 


,i 


,';' 


38 


SAUL. 


Second  Hebrew. 

He  sbowe'^  us  that  the  priestly  government 
Had  come  from  God  by  Moses  and  by  Aaron. 

Fifth  Hebrew. 

His  order,  yes,  the  spirit  of  his  order, 

(lave  utterance  there  ;  all  power  it  had  before, 

Which  now  must  be  divided  with  another. 

The  old  man,  certainly,  is  stung  at  seeming 

To  be  cast  off  by  us  in  his  old  age : 

But  what  is  done  is  done,  and  for  the  best ; 

Huzzah,  then,  for  the  King ! 

The  Others. 

Huzzah  for  King  and  Priest  1 
\Exeunt  omnes. 


^^^ 


m 


i 


ACT    II. 

SCENE    I.    „;  . 
Michmash.     A  handsome  Apartment. 
JSnter  Saui.  and  Jekoi  AD  All,  a  priest, 

.  Saul.    '   '  ,,      '    ;  .  ' 

I  know  that  tempest  and  a  foul  disease 

Discomfited  and  humbled  the  Philistines  ; 

But  nor  the  weather  nor  painful  emerods 

Are  always  at  your  bidding  ;  nor  is  Samuel 

Immortal,  that  he  should  have  still  the  power 

To  pray  for  you,  and  raise  new  Eben-ezers  ; 

And  when  he  's  gone,  what 's  Levi !     Ye  will  say 

The  Lord  will  raise  new  Samuels  up  i'    Israel. 

Hath  not  the  Lord  raised  me  ?  caused  mine  anointing? 

God  is  our  helper,  our  deliveref.  sayest  thou  ? 

God  now  shall  help  us  in  ano   ^  "V  way  : 

He  shall  assist  me  to  tra'i:jforin  the  Hebrews 

To  men,  they  who  tiU  recently  were  children, 

Fickle,  offending  him  by  fresh  relapses  ; 

Yet,  in  the  hour  of  dang  r,  crying  to  him 

As  babes,  when  smitten,  bellow  for  their  mothers  ; 

Or  spendthrifts,  clutched  by  angry  creditors, 

Beg  from  their  sires  freth  si'ms  to  purchase  pleasure. 


w 


;!,        1 


m 


ii '  ■ 


\ 


40 


SA  UL, 


All  this  13  changed,  for  none  again  a-vvhoring 
After  strange  gods  shall  go,  as  erst  they  did  ; 
Nor  demons  nor  the  stars  consult  shall  any. 
Henceforward  war  and  agriculture  shall 
Be  ours,  as  war  and  commerce  are  our  foes', 
Whose  discipline  with  discipline  we  '11  meet. 
Nor  from  henceforth,  with  raw  and  instant  levies, 
I  cope  with  the  trained  armies  that  Philistia 
Persists  in  sending  'gainst  us  :   I  more  men 
Must  have,  and  more  of  Israel's  substance,  e.'e 
I  open  the  campaign,  which  shall  not  close 
Until  the  land  is  cleared  of  aliens  ; 
Then  must  I  turn  within  and  look  for  foes 
Intestine,  they  who  wear,  indeed,  friends'  faces 
Yet  are  masked  traitors,  and,  with  envy  filled. 
Go  about  carping  at  us.     Nahash's  ruin 
Was  but  the  first  work  of  the  rude  purgation 
That  I  intend  for  Israel ;  her  at  length 
No  enemy  shall  ravage,  nor  shall  any 
Of  hers  malign  her  king  without  a  cause. 
I  have  too  patient  been  of  opposition  ; 
Hence  my  scant  force,  whose  numbers  are  no  more 
Than,  say,  two  thousand  here  and  at  Mount  Bethel, 
And  Jonathan's  one  thousand  men  at  Gibeah. 

(Jehoiadah  remains  silent.) 
Why  ponderest  thou  ?     Might  they  be  stationed  better? 


fMi^'- 


•         Jehoiadah. 

The  nation  murmur  that  your  Majesty 

Hath  taken  these  three  thousand  men  by  force  ; 

And  that,  so  taking  them,  you  did  select 

None  but  the  fair  of  form  and  strong  of  sinew  ; 

Seizing,  as  spoil,  the  prime  of  all  the  people. 


\  * 


er? 


"I  SAUL,  41 

Saul. 

The  people  have  provokers,  whom,  if  I 
Perceive,  I  will  cut  off !     Tell  me,  dost  thou, 
When  needing  for  the  altar  a  new  victim, 
Not  still  require  a  creature  void  of  blemish  ? 
And  shall  not  I  lay  hands  upon  the  best  ? 
Can  work  be  without  means  ?  and  if  I  be 
A  king,  shall  I  forego  the  pomp  and  state 
Wherewith  a  king  's  surrounded  ?     Let  beware 
All  idle  tongues,  or  I  will  pluck  them  out, 
And  haply,  in  my  indignation,  throw  them 
Into  their  owners' faces. 

(i5'«/^r  fl  Courier.) 

Say,  what  news? 
That  news  thou  bring'st  thy  wayworn  plight  declares, 
And  good  should  be  its  burden  by  thine  eye  :  — 
From  Jonathan  comest  thou  ? 

Courier. 

From  him  I  come, 

Your  Majesty,  and  bear  you  joyful  tidings  : 

I  all  the  night  have  hurried  on  to  bring 

You  glorious  day  :  —  his  Highness,  Jonathan, 

Hath  routed  the  Philistine  garrison 

Ai.  <.-e  ). 

Saul. 

My  brave  son  !     How  happened  it  ? 

vVhrti  '  -ovocation,  other  than  their  presence, 

Incited  him  to  assail  them  ?  —  or  were  they 

Our  son's  assailants .'' 

Courier. 
Them  the  prince  assailed  ; 
Ajid  for  he  would,  and  gave  no  reason  save 
He  could  and  would. 


F, 

i 

i:   ^ 

f 

It 


ih 


iiii ' 


42 


SAUL. 


Saul. 

Now  we  shall  stink  i'  the  nostrils 
Of  proud  Philistia,  who  will  all  her  war 
Soon  launch  against  us.  —  Well,  so  let  it  be.  — 
At  Gilgal  we  must  rapidly  assemble. 
I  will  reward  thee,  welcome  messenger. 
Follow  me,  Jehoiadah.      ^  \Exit  Saul. 

Courier. 

You  scarcely  seem 
To  like  my  news,  good  father. 

Tfhoiadah. 

Sirrah,  check 
Your  tongue.     Woulds'^  '  ,..-e  me  rush  into  the  street 
And  there  cry  "  Hallelujah  !"  [£'x// Jehoiadah. 

Courier. 

"  Sirrah  "  me  ? 
Lean  Levite  !     It  is  well  that  thou  art  gone, 
Or,  by  my  sword,  thou  sour,  disdainful  priest, 
This  hand  had  else  profaned  thee.     All  the  tribe 
Of  Levi  have  been  cankered  from  the  hour 
That  we  obtained  a  king.     Why,  let  them  fret, 
And  fall  away  like  watered  lime  ;  their  pride 
Long  time  has  needed  humbling. 

\Exit^  and  enter  a  Demox,  of  Zaph's  band^  laughing. 

Demo:.". 

Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  !  there  went  a  priest 
That  does  not  love  the  king  i'  the  least ; 
And  there  a  king  may  mischief  brew  :  — 
A  king  may  rule,  and  priest  may  too  ; 
But,  when  that  reigneth,  this  must  rue.  — 
Hark  Saul's  rolled  drums  ! 


SA  UL. 

The  echo  comes 

Of  blasts  swift  trumpets  loudly  blew  ! 

I  must  away, 

This  very  day, 

To  where  Zaph  lurketh  with  his  crew. 


43 


\Exit. 


SCENE   II. 

The  Country  near  Gibeah.     Enter,  in  haste,  Hebrews  fr07n 

different  quarters. 

First  Hebrew. 

Philistia,  Philistia  again  ! 

Philistia  comes  surging  like  her  sea. 

Now  lashed  to  fury  by  the  gale  from  Geba. 

"  To  Gilgal,  unto  Gilgal  !  "  is  the  cry  :  — 

The  king  is  gone,  and  with  him  the  three  thousand. 

Second  Hebrew. 
We  heard  the  tocsin  sounding  through  the  day. 

Third  Hebrew. 

And  we  along  the  echo-answering  hills 
Beheld  the  beacons  blazing  in  the  night ; 
Fire  answering  to  fire  as  sound  to  sound. 
As  though  to  match  the  replicated  peals  ; 
Till  o'er  the  whole  horizon's  sleepy  round 
Awoke  the  wondering  eyelids  of  the  dark.  — 
The  king  is  prompt. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 

Yet  not  more  prompt  than  needs 
To  meet  the  swift-hoofed  squadrons  that  outstrip 


lei!!, 


^4 


SA  UL. 


Tl'.e  arrow's  fli;;ht :  so  let  us  after  him, 
For  Samuel  is  to  join  the  host  at  Gilgal.  — 
What  is  thine  arm  ? 

Third  Hebrew. 
The  sword.     What  thine  ? 


Fourth  Hebrew. 

Fellow,  what  thine  ? 

Fifth  Hebrew. 
A  cudgel. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 

Thine  1 

Sixth  Hebrew. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 

Seventh  Hebrew. 
I  '11  bear  a  banner  for  the  kins. 


The  spear. 


The  sling. 


And  thine  ? 


I  draw  the  bow. 


Eighth  Hebrew. 

Ninth  Hebrew. 
I  throw  the  dart. 

Tenth  Hebrew. 


And  I 


Am  master  of  all  arms. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 

Enough  :  let  us  along  ; 
And  though  you  fight  not,  you  will  swell  the  thicn  ^ 


SA  UL. 


45 


Near  Michinash. 


SCENE    III. 

Saul  and  Jehoiadah  reconnoitring  the 
Philistine  encampment. 


Saul. 

Would  that  yon  host  were  mine,  or  mine  as  well 

Accoutred,  and  prepared  for  instant  war  ! 

But  we  must  meet  the  foe  with  such  rude  means 

As  the  haste-prompted  hand  of  our  surprise, 

Too  long  disarmed,  hath  furnished  us  ;  nor  doubt 

That  Samuel's  presence,  with  the  sure  beUef 

A  victory  has  been  for  us  ordained, 

Shall  help  to  wring  one  from  the  iron  grip 

Of  yonder  splendid  soldiery,  that  seem 

In  number  greater  than  the  burning  stars. 

Their  arms  and  armor  making  the  dull  earth 

More  shining  than  the  heavens  !     How  like  a  camp 

Of  bright,  descended  angels  they  appear. 

As  thus  the  sun  illumes  their  brazen  mail, 

And  silver-sembling  arms  of  glittering  steel ! 

They  are  tall  fellows  ;  chariots  too  I  see, 

That  fly  on  wheels  as  angels  on  swift  wings. 

Jehoiadah.  ^  ^ 

Why  did  his  Highness  rashly  fall  on  Geba  ?       ^ 
Unless  God  interpose,  we  cannot  meet 
The  anger  of  enraged  Philistia. 

Saul. 
Peace,  peace  ! 

Jehoiadah. 

'T  was  premature,  your  Majesty ; 
The  God-appointed  time  had  not  arrived. 


Ill 


III 


i' 


I 


46 


SAUL. 


They  had  not  sought  Jehovah  ;  headily 

This  struggle  was  begun  ;  't  was  ill  advised 

To  vex  the  enemy  without  permission. 

We  cannot  e'en  withstand,  much  less  o'erthrow, 

The  array  of  yon  embattled  armament, 

With  which  compared  thine  's  but  a  rabble  rout. 

Saul. 

Thou  lately  thought'st  a  rabble  was  as  good 
As  are  disciplined  bands. 

JEHOIADAH. 

Nay,  but  thou  hast 
No  chariots,  thy  cavalry  are  weak  : 
Thy  followers  many,  but  the  enemy's  horse 
Count  twice  the  number  of  thy  chosen  men  : 
In  vain  will  be  our  uttermost  resistance. 

Saul. 

How  often  have  our  ancestors  driven  back    " 
The  bold  begetters  of  that  mail-clad  host  ! 
Let  Samuel  come,  and  thou  shalt  see  them  fly. 
Why  doth  thy  master  tarry  ?  and,  for  thee, 
Philistine-fearing,  pale,  protesting  priest, 
Wouldst  hold  the  prince's  virtue  as  a  vice  1 
Let  Samuel  come,  and  thou  shalt  see  what  thou 
Hast  only  heard  of,  —  Jonathan's  brave  deeds  ; 
We  wait  the  prophet  here  to  sacrifice ; 
But  had  he  not  enjoined  us  to  delay. 
We  straight  had  given  battle  to  the  foe. 
Expecting  Heaven's  assistance.  —  But  he's  right ; 
The  vulgar,  to  whom  courage  is  not  native, 
And  who  have  not  acquired  by  proud  traditions 
The  fear  of  shame  and  dainty  sense  of  honor, 


I  ,. 


SAUL.  47 

Must  by  religion's  rites  obtain  the  valor 
Which  best  is  carried  ready  in  the  heart. 

JEHOIADAH. 

If  Samuel  coine,  and  if  the  Lord  be  willing, 
Doubtless  our  army  shall  have  victory. 

Saul. 

We  are  not  serving  other  gods  ;  yourselves 

Mis  altars  load  with  smoking  sacrifice, 

And  I  with  death  stern  punish  those  who  still 

Resort  to  demons  lieu  of  light  of  Urim  ; 

Then  wherefore  downcast  hangest  thou  thine  eyes, 

E'en  as  if  Dagon,  Seignior  of  the  Sea, 

Could  cooe  with  Him  who  rules  both  land  and  main  ? 

Jehoiadah. 
If  Samuel  come  not  — 

Saul. 

Come  not !     He  has  promised. 

Jehoiadah. 
Our  army  is  as  water  theirs  as  fire. 

.     Saul. 

Detractive  spirit,  let  us  back  to  Gilgal. 

^^  [Exii  Saul. 

Jehoiadah. 

Ay,  let  us  back  to  Gilgal.     Samuel  loves  him. 
But  I  detest  him,  and  should  any  king 
Detest,  for  kings  must  overshade  our  order. 

Exit  Jehoiadah. 


i 


r 


48 


SAUL. 


SCENE    IV. 


In  the  HebrerJs  camp,  at  Gil  gal.     Enter  SauL, 

Saul. 
Come  !  vSamuel,  come  !  Why  lingers  Samuel  ?    Age 
Should  prize  the  present,  since  so  brief  its  future. 
May  all  the  blest  fortuities  combine 
To  urge  him  hither. 

{Enter  Abner.) 

Well,  what  cheer  ? 


Abner. 
Our  army  is  by  far  too  faint  of  heart. 


Not  well ; 


Saul. 
So  I  suspected. 

Abner. 

Nay,  they  shame  me  ;  for 

They  are  appalled  even  by  the  mere  report 

Of  the  foe's  mien,  as  he  lies  couched  at  Michmash. 

'    '         Saul.     I 

I  knew  it  ;  yet  thy  words  do  half  unman  me, 

And  swell  in  me  uneasy  apprehension 

Of  evil  threatened  by  Samuel's  delay  ; 

For  should  we  be  attacked  ere  he  arrive, 

What  were  all  generalship,  all  zeal  and  courage,  — 

The  valor  of  a  few  conjoined  with  cowards  ? 

I  never  deemed  them  heroes,  but  so  soon 

To  fall  a-trembling  doth  indeed  enrage  me. 

Go  whisper  them  the  Seer 's  expected  hourly. 

\^Exit  Abner. 
A  gently  floating  rumor  will  assure  them 
More  than  a  confident  blast :   Come  !  Samuel,  come ! 

.  \_Exit  Saui, 


SAC!.. 


49 


SCENE   V. 

Another  part  of  the  camp.      Time,  the  foil ffiving  day. 
three  IIekrevv  Okfickrs  meeting. 


Enter 


First  Officer. 
What  news  ? 

Second  Officer. 

The  king  has  issued  a  command 

To  kill  all  found  deserting. 

Third  Officer. 

Then  he'll  kill  us 
As  fast  as  the  Philistines  could  desire  him  : 
O  shame !  O  shame  !  I  am  ashamed  to  own 
The  craven  hcivl  to  be  my  countrymen. 
How  must  the  foe  be  scoffing,  if  they  know  it ! 
Even  as  the  countenance  of  the  sun  dispels 
Hoar-frost,  so  has  the  enemy's  mere  presence 
Made  vanish  half  our  army,  which  now  hides, 
E'en  by  whole  companies,  in  caves  and  thickets, 
In  clefts  of  rocks,  on  mountains  and  in  pits ; 
And  some  have  e'en  o'er  Jordan  beat  retreat 
To  Gad  and  Ciilead,  and  the  remainder 
Tremble  like  women. 

Second  Officer. 

Lo,  the  king  comes  hither, 
Swift  striding,  and  in  angry  fashion  speaks 
To  his  companions,  whose  own  aspects  borrow 
A  grim  reflection  from  their  master's  wrath.        [Exeunt. 

{Enter  SxuL,  Arner,  and  Saul's  Armor-Bearer,  ^/.y^jw///.) 

Saul. 
Me  who  retreats  from  the  Philistine's  eyes 
Now  runs  directly  into  death's  black  jaws  ; 

3  D 


f 


H 


5° 


^AUL. 


None  can  escape.     I  have  the  camp  surrounded 
With  those  wh(j  will  not  spare:  if  more  clioose  flight, 
Let  them  dig  downwards  for  it  to  the  grave. 

Abner. 

Ay,  let  them  dig  to  hell ;  for  they  no  outlet 
Above  the  ground  shall  find  to  pass  our  lines. 

Saul. 

Had  but  our  pack  of  mongrel  hounds  kept  heart, 
Our  lines  had  been  a  leash  from  which  they  'd  sprung 
At  the  enemy's  throat,  so  soon  as  I  had  slipped  them ; 
Nay,  at  the  utmost  of  defeat  and  death, 
These  fields,  to  the  perished,  might  have  been  the  gates 
And  earthly  entrance  into  heavenly  meads. 

Armor-Bearer. 

'T  is  said  that  all  who  fall  in  righteous  battle 
Go  instant  thither. 

Abner. 
Whither  else  ? 

Saul. 

My  boy, 
All  patriots  are  angels  after  death  : 
The  soul  that  in  its  country's  cause  has  staked 
And  lost  its  sum  of  future  days  can  never 
Visit  Gehenna  or  darkle  down  perdition.  — 
'Tis  but  a  dreary  day,  but  it  may  brighten  : 
Go  furbish  now  my  armor  for  to-morrow. 

\Exit  Armor-Bearer. 

Abner. 
Here  comes  our  carping  friend. 


t  ■" 


SA  UL. 


5« 


Saul. 

He  friend  of  mine  1 

(£■«/<?>•  Jkhoiaimh.) 

How  now,  unwelcome  ?    Jehoiadah, 

So,  hie  thee  home  :   I  have  thee  in  such  love 

I  cannot  let  thee  risk  thy  life  here  longer. 

\Exit  Jehoiadah. 

Fifty  Philistines  in  the  camp  were  better 
Than  his  one  presence  with  that  hopeless  look. 

Abner. 

What  different  spirits  animate  mankind! 

How  unlike  his  from  thy  young  armor-bearer's! 

Saul. 

Mine  armor-bearer!  were  all  such  as  he, 
Little  would  Samuel's  absence  trouble  me  ! 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE  VI. 

A  part  of  the  Hebrew  camp.      Thne,  nightfall  of  the  sixth  day. 
Enter  Saul  and  Abner. 

Saul. 

To-morrow  's  the  seventh  day  :  let  messengers 
Be  sent  to  hasten  Samuel,  should  they  meet  him. 

Abner. 
Already  I  have  messengers  despatched. 

Saul. 

Abner,  if  all  go  well  with  us  to-morrow 
(As  it  is  possible  e'en  yet  it  may), 


m 


K>|3 


.1:   .:• 


B!   i 


52 


.S-^i  6'Z. 


And  if  we  be  not  basely  forced  to  flee 
Before  the  swords  of  the  Philistine  host, 
In  peace  I  will  raise  means  for  future  war  ; 
As  doth  the  husbandman  in  summer  raise 
The  crops  intended  as  his  winter  food. 
1  will  have  soldiers  plenty  at  my  call ;  — 
No  rabble  from  their  fields  and  city  crafts, 
Mustering  in  haste,  with  various  arms  uncouth, 
But  found,  scared,  fleeing  to  their  homes  at  sight 
Of  grimmer  foe  than  they  had  dreamed  to  meet. 
This  has  been  my  intention  since  the  day 
Wherein  I  routed  Nahash  ;  as  thou  knowest, 
And  knowest  how  greed  and  sloth  have  it  delayed. 

Abner. 

Our  nation  learns  not  war,  but  the  PhiUstine 
Is  the  perfection  of  a  well-trained  soldier. 

Saul. 

Knowing  that,  I  am  surprised  that  they  should  linger 
Yonder  in    Michmash.     Have   they   harlots,   thinkest 

thou  ? 
Or  do  they  drench  in  wine,  or  chew  the  drug 
Of  lazy  satisfaction,  that  their  ships 
Bring  from  the  farthest  corner  of  the  East  ? 
Or,  as  we  wait  for  Samuel  and  Jehovah, 
Do  they  await  the  special  aid  of  Dagon, 
Who  now,  deep  revelling  in  his  waters  green, 
Oi  lulled  in  the  embrace  of  some  sea-goddess, 
Forgets  Philistia's  legions  ? 

Abner. 

'T  is  most  strange  :  — 
Surely  't  is  Heaven  that  restrains  them  from  us. 


I  III 

If   ' 
1 


r 

est 


SA  UL. 

Saul. 

I  do  believe  that  most  of  our  pale  remnant, 
Filled  they  so  are  with  terror  of  ♦'le  foe, 
Would  flee  at  the  first  echo  of  his  bugles. 
Blown  by  him  to  the  tune  of  an  advance. 

Abner. 
I  know  that  troops  to-night  will  slink  away, 
Snake-like,  upon  their  bellies. 

Saul. 
I  think  the  guards  are  trusty. 


53 


Abnp:r. 


And  yet  I  'm  doubtful. 


So  think  I, — 


Saul. 

Would  there  were  no  night, 
For  half  the  world  abuse  it.     Let  them  go  ; 
Although  it  is  ungrateful  as  't  is  cowardly 
Thus  to  desert  me  coldly  by  degrees, 
As  breath  from  off  a  mirror.     Set  the  watch ; 
1  '11  to  my  tent,  albeit  not  to  sleep.  \Exeunt. 


SCENE   VII. 

The  camp.     Time,  the  morrow.    Enter  ZOE,  as  if  fleeing  from 

something. 

ZOE. 

0  bhnding  hastiness  !  he  will  not  listen 
Whilst  I  dissuade  him  from  impiety  : 

1  will  not  sec  the  deed. 


54  SAUL. 

[Exit^  and  enter  ^AMLy  Abner,  Officers,  a/zf/ Soldiers.) 

Saul. 

Atterr,jt  not  to  dissuade  me,  Abner  :  no, 

Sr v^ii  days  we  have  waited,  and  he  is  not  come. 

Bring  the  burnt-offering  and  peace-offering  to  me : 

'T  is  not  the  sacrificer,  but  the  victim  ; 

'T  is  not  the  hand,  but 't  is  the  heart,  God  looks  at. 

{Si  kxJi.  offers,  and,  having  finished,  Samuel  enters.) 

Samuel. 
What  hast  thou  done,  Saul  ?  . 

"V 

Saul. 

Chide  me  not,  but  listen  : 
Seven  days  I've  seen  my  forces  waste  away, 
And  camest  thou  not  within  the  appointed  time ; 
Then  said  I  to  myself,  "  The  enemy 
Will  yet  attack  us  ere  we  shall  have  made 
Our  supplication,"  so  I  forced  myself, 
And  have  this  moment  finished  offering. 

Samuel. 

Wrong  hast  thou  done,  yea,  disobedient  been, 

Unhappy  man  !  for  now  thy  dynasty 

Upon  the  throne  was  to  have  been  confirmed 

Forever,  and  the  sceptre  fully  given 

To  thy  posterity,  that  now  no  crown 

Shall  ever  wear,  they  by  thyself  discrowned. 

Dethroned,  thy  throne  now  given  to  another 

Chosen  of  God,  and  after  his  own  heart, 

To  be  the  Captain  over  Israel, 

Instead  of  thee,  presumptuous  and  daring. 

[Exit  Samuel. 


SAUL. 


55 


IS.) 


Saul. 

Why,  let  him  go  :  —  how  little  it  requires 

To  expose  a  man  when  taken  by  surprise  1 

We  know  the  cause  of  this  denunciation  : 

He  fears  I  would  be  priest  as  well  as  king. 

Not  I.  —  Indeed,  we  live  and  see  strange  things. 

Alas  I  can  he,  so  old  and  wise,  have  been 

So  snatched  away  by  anger  ?  —  wroth  with  me  too  I  — 

Am  I  not  higher  than  he  ?     He  cannot  have 

Such  strange  and  foul  suspicion  :  —  kingly  cares 

Alone  are  surely  a  sufficient  burden 

For  one  man's  spirit  to  carry !    Ah,  when  last 

We  parted  here  't  was  in  a  different  mood.  — 

He  said  my  throne  was  given  to  another  ; 

By  me  were  my  posterity  discrowned  ; 

I  had  done  wrong,  been  disobedient.  — 

1  may  have  erred,  but  wherein  disobeyed  "i 

Seven  days  I  waited,  ay,  till  th'  skirts  o'  the  term 

Had  disappeared,  and  with  it  —  O,  foul  shame !  — 

Near  all  my  army.     O  fond  Saul,  fond  fool, 

To  agree  to  such  a  monstrous  proposition 

As  a  week's  waiting  him !     Why  should  slow  age 

Chain  the  swift  wheels  of  manhood  ?     But  for  his 

Most  stupid  interdiction,  I  had  urged 

At  once  my  road-stained  car  of  battle  down 

On  the  Philistines.     Weak-willed  Saul  !  regardful 

Of  a  proud  dotard's  reeling,  shadowy  power  : 

Now  mine  reels  too.     Philistines  now  approach  : 

Saul  is  no  longer  able  to  oppose  you,  — 

Saul,  that  advanced  upon  you  wet  with  speed, 

And  would  have  cast  against  you  such  a  tempest, 

But  for  the  o'erblowing  of  this  old  man's  week, 

That  the  whole  world  hereafter  should  have  doubted 

When  told  of  such  grim  mischief. 


m 


1 

i'ls 

\r' 

11;: 

r;.'(l|'      •«: 


■'  .f' 


56 


SAUL. 
Abner. 


My  good  cousin, 
My  high,  undaunted,  and  anointed  sovereign, 
Cease  raging  thus  in  public. 

Saul. 

It  is  false ; 
Not  changed  is  Heaven's  purpose,  only  Samuel's. 
I  will  not  fear  :  though  men  desert  me,  God 
Is  not  unfaithful  :  —  yet  how  can  I  hope, 
With  such  ^in  army  all  composed  of  mist, 
Such  dastard  wretches,  such  predestined  bondsmen, — 
How  can  I  hope  to  quell  the  enraged  Philistines  ? 

0  that  I  had  myself  been  a  Philistine  ! 

For  on  the  un warlike  Hebrews  scorn  I  fling, 

And  rue  that  I  was  ever  made  their  king. 

\Exit  Saul. 
Abner. 

1  '11  after  him  ;  I  know  not  what  he  '11  do 
In  his  rash  humor  and  irreverent  wrath. 

\Exit  Abner,  the  rest  retiring  iti  silence. 


SCENE  VIII. 
Near  GilgaL     Enter  Saul  and  Jonathan. 

Saul. 

All 's  over  here  ;  —  let  us  withdraw  and  weep 
Down  in  the  red  recesses  of  our  hearts. 
Or,  in  our  spirits,  silent,  curse  the  cravens 
Whom  muttered  execrations  too  much  honor. 
Home,  home,  let  us,  dishonored,  — home,  if  there 
Be  yet  for  us  a  home,  and  the  PhiUstines 


SAUL. 

Drive  us  not  fordi  to  miserable  exile. 

Will  they  allow  us,  like  an  o'er-breathed  hare, 

Spent,  to  return  and  repossess  our  form  ?  — 

Will  they  endure  us  still  in  Gibeah  ? 

Or  must  we,  flying  from  our  vacant  throne, 

Discover  some  dark  den  on  Lebanon, 

And  dwell  with  lions  ?  or  with  hungry  foxes 

Burrow,  and  depend  on  cunning  for  our  food  ? 

Better  with  lions  and  with  foxes  mating, 

Than  be  companions  of  the  brood  of  Israel ; 

Yea,  better  with  the  hill-wolf  famishing 

Than  battening  with  the  herd  that  forms  the  world. 

Jonathan. 
Alas,  my  sisters.  — 

Saul. 

Alas,  thy  mother  ;  —  she 
The  silent  critic  on  my  life.     Thy  mother 
And  sisters  may  be  forced,  erelong,  to  dwell 
In  some  dank  cave,  or  o'er  the  borders  flee 
With  us,  and  seek  in  some  strange  realm  asylum. 
Why,  let  it  be  so  ;  we  can  live  'midst  strangers. 
Of  all  the  myriads  who  followed  us  hither, 
How  many  are  left  us  ."* 

Jonathan. 

But  a  poor  six  hundred. 

Saul. 
Ay,  is  my  picked  three  thousand  dwindled  so  ! 
What  next !  what  next !     There  is  no  virtue  left 
In  mortal  man, —  nay,  women  had  done  better. 
O  Jonathan,  thy  glorious  deed  at  Geba, 
Put  out  unto  unworthy  usury. 
Is  lost  in  (iilgal's  issue! 


57 


58 


SAUL. 


?  ' 


Jonathan, 

Yearn  not  o'er  me. 
What  we  have  done,  O  king  and  sire,  is  ours, 
Part  of  ourselves  :  —  yea  more,  it  will  not  die 
When  we  shall,  nor  can  any  steal  it ; 
For  honor  hath  that  cleaving  quality. 
It  sticks  to  us,  and  no  one  may  remove  it 
Save  our  own  selves  by  future  deeds  of  baseness. 

Saul. 
We  never  were  so  poor  since  we  grew  rich. 

Jonathan. 

We  will  grow  richer  than  we  yet  have  been  ; 
And,  from  this  need,  yet  heap  up  such  abundance 
That  we  shall  wonder  why  we  ever  grieved 
At  this  petty  pilfering. 

Saul. 

"  Pilfering ! "  that 's  the  word. 
Yes,  Jonathan,  we  have  been  meanly  pilfered  ; 
Rats  have  been  stealing  grain  from  out  our  garner : 
Each  runaway  was  a  rat ;  and  for  seven  days 
An  ancient  friend  still  oped  our  granary  door, 
Then  snapped  on  me  the  quick  rebounding  trap 
That  should  have  caught  the  vermin. 

Jonathan. 

Rate  not  Samuel. 
Saul. 

He  rated  me  too  low  when  he  rebuked  me, 
And  talked  of  ban  on  us,  when  he  his  garment 
Ought  to  have  rent,  and  his  white  head  with  ashes 
Covered  at  sight  ot  what  his  tardiness 


SAUL.  59 

Had  caused,  —  the  dissolution  of  my  ranks, 
And  the  fair  tower  of  a  well-won  prestiije 
Mouldering  and  all  dismantled.  —  Let  us  go. 

Jonathan. 

Let's  take  with  us  the  remnant  of  our  guard  : 
They  show  the  fairer  from  their  comrades'  foulness. 

Saul. 

I  've  lost  all  faith  in  others  :  they  '11  be  home 

Ere  we  ;  if  not,  I  '11  drive  them,  but  not  lead  them. 

\Excunt. 


>>»c 


ACT    III. 

SCENE   I. 

The  Country  near  Michmash.     Time,  evening.     Enter  Glo- 
RiEL  and  another  Angel. 

Angel. 

My  errand  done,  1  must  return  above.  , 

Farewell. 

Gloriel. 

Since  thou  retum'st  so  soon,  farewell, 
Sweet  cherub.  \Exit  Angel. 

Heaven  works  again  for  Saul, 
Nor  will  allow  him  utterly  to  fall. 
Where  is  that  able  but  rebellious  spirit, 
Zaph,  ruler  of  the  band  that  haunt  the  earth 
To  compass  Satan's  malice  ?    At  the  pole 
I  lately  saw  him  sitting.     Him  and  his  band 
I  will  compel  to  be  my  ministers 
On  the  Philistines,  whilst  that  I  myself 
Inspire  with  hardihood  Prince  Jonathan. 

{.Enter  an  Angel  of  Gloriel's  company.) 

What  news  ? 

Angel. 

Zaph  's  hovering  over  Palestine : 


LO- 


EL, 


SAUL. 

I  've  clogged  him  from  the  morning  until  now. 
I  think  he  knows  he  's  watched. 


6i 


Gloriel. 

Go  fetch  him  hither. 
{Exit  Angel. 

Now  let  a  blast  from  out  the  deep  arise 
And  push  behind  him  ;  for  he  will  not  come 
Unless  compelled. 

{A  tempest  arises f  andZKvn  is  driven  in^follmvedby  the  K^G^'L) 

Zaph. 
What  dost  thou  want  with  me  ? 

Gloriel. 

To-morrow  let  the  day  break  gloomily, 
And,  at  the  hour  when  I  shall  instigate  thee, 
Tempt  the  Philistine  garrison  at  Michmash, 
And  so  infatuate  them  that  each  man 
Shall  take  his  fellow  for  an  enemy. 

Zaph. 
Cannot  thine  own  do  this  ?     I  '11  not  obey  thee. 

Gloriel. 

At  the  same  hour,  let  all  thy  company 
Wander  beneath  the  surface  of  the  ground, 
And  simulate  an  earthquake  :  and  let  some 
Emit  low  moanings  such  as  those  you  utter 
When,  lonely  meditating  in  hell's  cavern, 
You  feel  yourselves  undone. 

Zaph. 

Ungenerous  taunt! 
Ah,  bitter  fulness  of  expression  !     Cruel 


62 


SAUL. 


Amplification  of  a  sad  idea ! 

Insult  mc  not,  old  comrade.     Oloriel, 

Think  that  I  once  thine  equal  was  in  heaven, 

And  spare  me,  then,  this  drudgery.     Cannot  one 

Of  all  my  band  delude  the  garrison  ? 

Gloriel. 

Thou  hast  mine  orders  ;  and  obey  them  strictly. 
Remember,  there  is  naught  betwixt  us  now 
Of  high  respect  and  deep  consideration  \ 
And  old  equality  has  ever  vanished. 

Zaph. 

Thou  pitiless  cherub  !  punctilious  angel !  —  but 
I  must  obey  thee  ;  —  yea,  I  know  I  must, 
For  to  subject  me  God  hath  given  thee  power. 
Alas  that  ever  such  prodigious  power 
Should  to  one  spirit  o'er  another  be  given  ! 
Thou  harsh  and  haughty  hierarch,  may  yet 
Hell's  gnawing  fires  exhaust  thee  of  thy  strength ; 
And  may'st  thou  some  day  feel  the  bitterness 
Thou  now  on  me  infiict'st.     Curse  thee,  thou  tyrant  1 
May  Acheron  yet  torment  thee. 

Gloriel. 

Curse  no  longer. 
Zaph. 

I  '11  curse  thee  at  my  pleasure !    What  art  thou 

That  I  should  fear  to  blister  thee  with  words, 

And  cover  thee  with  epithets  envenomed  ? 

I  hold  thee  light,  officiary  angel ; 

And  if  the  God  that  made  us  would  be  neutral, 

Or  would  abandon  thee  as  he  hath  me, 

Then  thou  shouldst  be  the  slave  and  I  the  tyrant. 

A  curse  upon  thee,  ay,  a  curse  upon  thee  1 


63 


SAUL, 

Gloriel. 
Peace,  demon,  peace. 

Zaph. 
There  is  no  peace  for  me  I 

Glortf.l. 
Go,  fiend,  and  fail  not  in  thy  task  to-morrow. 

Zaph. 

I  go,  I  go,  I  go  ;  —  but  there  is  yet 
Eternity  to  generate  thee  sorrow. 

*  \Exeunt  different  ways. 


SCENE    II. 

A  quiet  street  in  Michmash.      Time,  the  morrow. 

Hebrews. 


Enter  three 


First  Hebrew. 

Let's  die  at  once  ;  let 's  go  provoke  the  Philistine 
To  end  us,  for  now  life  is  void  of  charm  1 
Deride  me  not ;  all  nature  is  in  horror  ; 
The  cheerful  sun  in  shame  now  shuns  our  land, 
As  joy  avoids  our  hearts. 

Second  Hebrew. 

See  ;  whilst  we  gaze. 
Grows  more  portentous  the  mysterious  gloom. 
Up-piled  prodigious  on  the  slumbering  earth. 
That  dreams  of  daylight,  yet  no  daylight  comes  ; 
But  darkness  lingers,  and  therein,  obscure. 
With  filmy  face,  the  sick,  uncertain  sun 
Looms  like  a  lamp  held  in  a  spectre's  hand 
To  guide  dim  doers  of  unhallowed  deeds. 


'W 


kl 


il 


ill 


im 


64 


SA  UL. 


Third  Hebrew. 

It  is  a  gloomy  morn  ;  a  gloomier 

I  never  saw  ;  —  but  't  is  not  true  the  king, 

With  all  his  court,  has  fled  into  the  desert : 

He  Gibeah  holds,  and  seems  to  keej.  at  bay 

(Though,  wiih  his  means,  it  only  is  a  seeming) 

The  enemy,  who  menace  him  from  Michmash. 

But  come,  some  wine  would  do  us  each  a  kindness  ;. 

Let 's  to  the  "  Eschol,"  where  I  know  are  now 

Philistine  soldiers  drinking  :  we  will  cheat  them 

At  game  of  hazard,  for  the  maid  shall  watch 

And  give  us  signals,  while  she  stands  behind 

And  for  us  brews  a  cordial.     Let  us  enter  : 

A  cup  shall  cheer  us. 

First  Hebrew. 

Rather  let 's  go  pray. 

Third  Hebrew. 
No  ;  better  wine  to  drive  our  care  away. 

Second  Hebrew. 

Come  on,  then,  brothers.  —  See,  wine  here  hath  sway. 

{^As  they  are  about  to  enter  the  ^^  Eschol,''^  a  peasant,  flushed  with 
liquor^  and  carrying  a  cotdter,  conies  out.) 

Peasant. 
You  are  three  Gilgal  swallows. 

First  Hebrew. 

What  bird  thou  ? 


Peasant. 
No  Gilgal  swallow,  trust  me. 


SAUL.  dt^ 

First  Hebki.vv. 

Meaner  bird  : 
For  thou,  when  others  tlocked  with  Saul  to  Ciilgal, 
St.iyed  in  thy  nest,  and  moulted  in  thy  terror. 

Peasant. 
Three  Gilgal  swallows  1 

Second  Hebrew. 

Swallow  thine  own  gall. 

Peasant. 
1  keep  the  gall  to  grieve  the  Gilgal  swallows. 

First  Hebrew. 
Call'st  me  a  swallow  ? 

Second  Hebrew. 

Dost  thou  swallow  me  ? 

Peasant. 
Thou  art  a  swallow,  and  I  swallow  thee. 

First  Hebrew. 

Now  shalt  thou  swallow  thine   own   words  !      Am  I 
A  Gilgal  swallow  ? 

Third  Hebrew. 

And  am  I  } 

Peasant. 

All  three  ;  — 
Wilt  swallow  now  this  coulter  ? 

First  Hebrew. 

Hound !  my  sword 
Is  in  Philistine  keeping,  or  1  'd  slay  thee  ; 


S!  I 


'1!'.' 


66 


S.-l  UL. 


1  'd  rip  thee  up  ;  fellow,  I  'd  serve  thee  out ; 

I'  d  broach  thy  kilderkin  ;  I  'd  stop  thy  crowing  ; 

I  'd  find  thine  inmost  bowels ! 

\The  Hebrews  enter  the  "  Eschcl." 

Peasant. 

What  a  brawl ! 
There  's  now  more  threat'ning  in  one  day  in  Israel 
Than  was  within  ten  years  when  we  had  weapons. 
We  cannot  sharpen  our  coulters,  pitchforks,  mattocks, 
Save  at  Philistine  smithies,  but  sharp  words 
Are  anywhere  about  the  land  :  —  the  foe, 
Having  removed  our  warhke  tools,  yet  leave  us 
The  little  scarlet  tongue  to  scratch  and  sting  with. 
Well,  swords  are  dangerous  things  in  angry  hands  ; 
And  coulters  are  but  awkward  ones  for  fencing. 

{Singing.) 

I  '11  down  with  my  coulter  unto  the  foe's  forge, 
Lay  my  hand  on  his  bellows,  my  eyes  on  his  gorge, 
And  think,  could  I  span  it,  O  ho  !  could  I  span  it !  — 
Never  mind,  boys,  never  mind,  boys,  but  some  day  we'll 
plan  it. 

I  cannot  crackle  up,  I  cannot  sing  : 

This  gloomy  morning  quite  extinguishes  me.  — 

There  is  a  nameless  vapor  in  the  air, 

That  puts  out  merriment ;  —  and  well  it  may  : 

This  sky  is  dismal  as  mortality. 

Well,  all  must  die  !  —  and  hath  it  not  been  written,  — 

Man  is  a  pipe  that  Life  doth  smoke, 
As  saunters  it  the  earth  about  ; 
And  when  't  is  wearied  of  the  joke, 
Death  comes  and  knocks  the  ashes  out 


SAUL. 


67 


cV." 


Something  with  a  moral  in  it  comes  so  easily 
In  these  sad  times. 

\Exit,  ami  the  scene  changes  to  a  solitary  place  near  Gibeah, 
A  ravine  near,  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  it  the 
Philistine  Garrison  at  Michmash. 

(Enter  Jonathan  and  his  Armor-Bkarer, — th^  foj^mer 

pacing  to  and  fro, ) 

Armor-Bearer. 
The  day 's  as  lowering  as  are  Israel's  fortunes  ; 
And  it,  or  they,  or  both  combined,  oppress  me. 
I  am  as  gloomy  as  the  sky,  or  even 
As  Jonathan.  —  Alas,  poor  prince,  how  changed  ! 
Once  he  would  jest  with  mc,  or  chat  on  trifles 
Of  home  or  heart,-  disdaining  not  to  tell  me 
His  boyish  loves  ;  and  show  me  how  to  fling 
The  spear  and  dart,  how  best  to  draw  the  bow, 
How  bear  the  shield,  and  how,  with  rapid  fences, 
To  make  the  falchion  hoarsely  growl  1'  th'  air : 
But  not  so  now  ;  as  a  deserted  mansion. 
He  dwells  ai:)sorbed  in  cold  and  stately  grief. 
And  half  against  me  shut.     Gilgal's  vile  field, 
And  the  east  wind  of  Samuel's  threatening. 
Seem  to  have  withered  in  him  sense  of  pleasure  :  — 
No  wonder  1     Unto  all  so  kind  he  was, 
So  open,  that  it  makes  me  melancholy 
When  thinking  on  the  sunshine  of  the  past, 
And  I  return  —  if  not  for  shelter,  yet 
In  very  madness  —  to  the  drizzling  thoughts 
Engendered  by  the  present.     Would  he  'd  speak  1 
His  bearing  seems  so  threatening  and  disturbed. 
I  like  it  not ;  now  sudden  standing  still. 
Fixed  in  some  dark  and  earnest  revery. 
Now  off  at  quickened  pace.     He 's  muttering, 
And  casts  his  eyes  towards  heaven  ;  —  I  will  accost  him. 


68  SAUL. 

{The  Armor-Bearek  approaches  Jonathan.) 

Jonathan. 
Let  us  go  over  to  yon  garrison  ; 
It  may  be  God  will  help  us.     Fear  not,  come  ; 
For  there  is  no  restriction  on  the  Almighty 
To  work  by  many  or  to  work  by  few. 

Armor-Bearer. 
{Aside.)  Alas,  he  's  growing  demented ! 


Jonathan. 
I  feel  strange  promptings. 


Follow  me : 


Armor-Bearer. 

O  your  Highness, 
Talk  not  in  this  wise  :  let  my  lord  remember, 
Heaven  will  not  work  because  the  Prince  presumes. 
Though  strong  and  brave,  my  lord  is  not  so  strong 
As  Samson  was,  when  he  for  Israel  smote, 
With  javvbone  of  an  ass,  the  scared  Philistines. 
Then  wherefore  should  you  fondly  dare  essay 
His  feat  of  fury,  and  great  scorn  of  death  ?  — 
What  would  your  Highness  do  if  you  were  there  ? 

Jonathan. 
I  cannot  tell  thee  yet ;  but  come  and  see. 

Armor-Bearer. 
'T  is  desperate  ;  cast  from  your  soul  the  thought. 

Jonathan. 

No  ;  't  is  an  inspiration. 

Armor-Bearer. 

"  Madness  "  call  it, 
Bred  from  your  disappointment  and  galled  heart. 


SAUL.  69 

Your  Highness  broods  too  much  :  adversity 
Hath  fretted  you  as  harness  frets  the  steed 
That  is  as  yet  unbroken,  urging  it, 
Even  by  its  tirst  uncomprchcnded  touch, 
To  violent  and  self-injurious  efforts 
To  cast  it  off,  which  only  cause  the  Tamer 
To  strengthen  it,  and  rudelier  ply  the  bit 
Till  the  proud  beast  consents  to  do  his  paces. 

Jonathan. 
Never  shall  we  consent  to  the  Philistine  ! 
Peace.     Though  the  iron  curb  be  in  our  mouths,  — 
No  smith  allowed  by  our  politic  foe 
To  forge  new  arms,  nor  to  repair  the  old, 
The  very  ploughshares,  that  make  war  with  earth, 
And  rip  up  its  brown  bowels,  being  bound 
To  be  engendered  in  their  licensed  forges,  — 
We  never  shall  be  tamed  to  slavery 
By  the  Philistines,  whom  we  oft  have  driven 
Across  the  borders,  like  a  frantic  steed 
Rushing  car-bound  across  the  rugged  plain, 
And  badged  at  mouth  and  nostrils  with  a  beard 
Of  mingled  blood  and  foam.     Oppose  me  not : 
Men  are  not  cattle. 

Armor-Bearer. 

No,  your  Highness  ;  but, 
Being  greater,  they  are  thence  exposed  to  evils 
That  the  low  brute  escapes  ;  just  as  high  hills 
Do  suffer  blasts  of  which  the  plain  feels  nothing : 
Pardon  me,  so  much  the  more  may  you,  being  higher 
In  station  than  the  rest  of  Israel, 
And  more  endowed  than  most  with  gracious  gifts, 
But  dangerous  impulse  of  an  ardent  mind. 
Greatly  err  than  I.     My  life  is  naught,  but  yours 


70 


SAUL. 


Is  much,  or  I  had  not  withstood  you.     Think, 

The  times  are  evil,  and  what  influence 

There  may  be  hovering  in  this  dismal  air. 

Or  thoughts  pernicious  coming  from  the  clouds, 

Wherein,  'tis  said,  hide  demons,  naught  we  know :  — 

Suffice,  that  your  intent  wears  shape  suspicious. 

Haply  this  trusted  inspiration  comes 

From  some  bad  spirit,  who  would  tempt  your  Highness 

To  instant  death,  or  unto  what  were  worse, — 

The  sad  estate  of  prisoner  to  the  foe, 

Who,  by  slow  process  might  to  death's  shores  lead  you, 

Or  hurry  you  from  hence  into  the  sea 

And  drown  you  as  a  sacrifice  to  Dagon  ; 

Or,  should  their  vengeance  merge  in  policy, 

Sparc  you  to  manacle  the  hands  of  Israel, 

Who  might  not  dare  to  strike  your  captors,  lest 

She  should  but  bruise  herself  in  bruising  those 

That,  holding  you,  could  every  future  blow 

Retaliate  by  nameless  cruelties 

On  their  great  hostage,  even  on  yourself, 

The  blast  of  whose  sore  sufferings  they'd  wind 

So  sad  upon  our  ears,  that  we  should  cease 

To  strike  the  foe,  lest  we  in  striking  him 

Should  injure  you. 

Jonathan. 

Then  I  must  go  alone. 

Armor-Bearer. 
You  are  not  bent .'' 

Jonathan. 
I  am. 

Armor-Bearer. 

Then  take  me,  though 
It  be  unto  the  mouth  of  sure  destruction  : 
I  can  but  die,  or  live  and  with  you  suffer. 


11 


Fear  not. 


SAUL. 
Jonathan. 

Armor-Bearer. 
Lead  on  ;  I  '11  follow,  whither  you  will. 

Jonathan. 
God  will  precede  us.     Bring  '"ith  thee  our  arnis. 

Armor-Bearer. 
I  will,  and  use  them,  to  the  last,  if  need  be. 

^Having  arrived  at  the  bottom  of  the  ravine.) 

Armor-Bearer. 
The  garrison  seems  quiet. 

Jonathan. 

Happy  omen  ! 
Now  wear  a  moment  a  foul  traitor's  front : 
Seem  timid,  but  be  brave  :  affect  misgiving, 
But  have  within  thee  steady  confidence. 
For  we  must  show  ourselves.     Mark,  if  they  cry 
"  Wait  till  we  come  to  you,"  we  will  stand  still, 
And  not  ascend  to  them  ;  but  if  they  say 
"  Come  up  to  us,"  we  will  go  up  to  them, 
For  God  will  have  consigned  them  to  our  hands. 

(  They  commence  climbing  toivards  Michmash  ;  and  its  garrison^ 
observing  them,  are  hailed  by  Jonathan.) 


What,  ho ! 


Jonathan. 

A  Sentinel. 
Who  are  you  ? 

Jonathan. 

Hebrews. 


i' 


mi 

f    3    I 
£'"  i    1 


72 


SA  UL. 
The  Philistines  {JaugJiing). 


Sentinel. 


Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 


Crept  from  your  holes 


One  of  the  Garrison. 
Come  up  to  us  and  we  will  show  you  something. 

Jonathan  {to  his  Armor-Bearer). 

Follow  me  ;  they  are  our^i. 

(Jonathan  and  hi:  Armor-Bearer,  climbing  on  their 
hands  and  fect^  disappear.  Presently  clashing  of 
swords  heard  from  the  fortress,  and  great  uproar, 
mingled  with  a  rumbling  noise,  as  of  an  earthquake. 
The  scene  changes  to  the  Gibean  side  of  the  ravine. 
The  tumult  aftd  noise  as  of  an  earthquake  still  heard.") 

A  Hebrew  Sentinel  {gazing  across  the  ravine). 

What  sound  do  I  hear,  as  if  the  earth  on  sudden 
Roared  like  the  ocean,  and  the  clang  of  arms 
Coming  from  Michmash  .?  and,  most  singular, 
Behold  the  whole  Philistine  garrison 
Come  tumbling  like  a  torrent  on  the  field. 
What  meaneth  this  ?    Arms  glance  along  hke  light- 
nings ; 
Helmets  and  shields,  and  heads  and  bodies  bare, 
Dance  in  confusion.     'T  is  a  fearful  fray  ! 
See  how  they  charge  each  other,  and,  in  rage. 
Sweep  slaughtering  like  a  whirlpool  round  and  round  ; 
And  ever  and  anon  some  gashed  head  sinks, 
Drowned  in  the  bloody  eddy.     Louder  grows 
The  noise  ;  earth  trembles  till  the  deep-jarred  ground 
Rumbles,  as  if  't  were  one  enormous  grave, 
Wherein  some  overwhelmed,  awakened  corpse, 
Resurgent,  groaned  in  horror.     Horror  reigns  ; 


-■m 


SAUL. 

The  darkened  world  at  its  expiry  seems, 
And  the  dealli-rattle  in  the  earth's  pent  throat 
Mingles  with  battle's  burden.     Can  it  be, 
At  this  great  note  of  nature,  our  oppressors 
Deem  we  have  come  upon  them  as  at  Geba  ? 
No  ;  'tis  themselves  who  thus  themselves  assail ; 
And,  like  a  lion  that  has  leaped  the  fold, 
And  ravens  on  the  flock  with  flaming  eyes, 
Strange  madness,  making  mutual  massacre. 
Sends  through  the  gloom  the  play  of  glittering  steel. 
The  steel  is  fiercelier  plied  :  they  wield  their  blades. 
As  laboring  smiths  upon  the  anvil  wield 
The  time-observing  hammers,  and  like  them 
Beat  out  harsh  rhythms  with  augmenting  rage. 
The  battle  more  embroils,  arms  louder  ring : 
Why  stay  I  here,  and  not  inform  the  King  ? 


73 


[Exit. 


SCENE    III. 

Mignon,  in  the  farthest  part  of  Gibeah.  '  Saul,  seated  under 
a  pomegranate-tree,  and  with  his  troops  around  him.  77ie 
sound  of  the  earthquake  heard.,  and  that  of  the  fighting 
faintly. 

Saul. 

Number  our  band,  and  see  who  is  absent.     Quick  ; 
I  hear  the  sound  of  action,  and  severe. 

{Enter  the  Hebrew  Sentinel,  running.) 

Sentinel. 

The  King,  the  King  !  where  is  my  lord  the  King  I 
Your  Majesty,  our  foes  are  fiercely  fighting  ; 
With  whom  I  know  not.     Over  all  the  field 


iBnt 


i  i 


:ilr 


74 


SA  UL. 


The  tumult  spreads  like  fire  among  the  stubble. 
The  earth,  too,  seems  to  shake ;  and  I  behove 
I  hear  a  noise  that  is  not  made  by  man, 
So  strange  it  is  and  dismal. 

Another  Sentinel  {running  in). 

Rise,  my  liege  : 
Up,  up  I  our  foes  are  stirring  ;  arms  on  armor 
Ring,  and  strange  thunder  mutters  o'er  the  ground, 
Which  either  God  or  man  is  causing  tremble. 

An  Officer  {to  Saul). 
The  Prince  is  absent,  and  his  armor-bearer. 

Saul  {to  Ahiah  the  Priest). 
Bring  here  the  Ark  of  God. 

(The  Ark  is  brought,  and  Ahiah  the  Priest  having  laid  his 
hand  upon  it,  Saul  and  he  converse  together,  during  which 
the  noise  increases. ) 

Saul  {to  the  Priest). 
Withdraw  thine  hand. 

Ahiah. 

The  Lord  hath  not  yet  spoken. 

Saul. 

He  calls  us  by  the  earthquake  to  the  fray. 
To  succor  Jonathan  let  all  away. 

\Exeunt  omnes  in  haste. 


i  . 


i: 


SAUL. 


75 


SCENE    IV. 

T^e  country  betiveen  Michntash  and  Mount  Ephraim.  Enter 
wildly,  and  from  different  directions,  a  numder  0/ HEBREWS 
of  that  part.     The  noise  of  the  pursuit  heard. 

First  Hebrew. 
Behold !  see  yonder  glorious  sight !    O  joy  ! 
Joy  !  the  Philistines  flee.     Our  countrymen, 
Prisoners  whom  they  had  taken  in  their  forays, 
And  who  at  Michmash  did  their  drudgery, 
Have  turned  upon  the  cruel  garrison. 
That,  with  those  ghostly  groanings  of  the  ground, 
And  morn's  lugubrious  shadows  fear  befooled, 
Were  suddenly  assailed  by  Jonathan, 
Who  yonder,  nimble  as  the  mountain  roe, 
With  his  huge  armor-bearer  sweeps  along, 
And  cuts  off  every  knave  that  hails  from  Gath. 

Second  Hebrew. 
Joy,  joy  it  is,  indeed  :  our  valor  now, 
Red  as  the  mom,  can  mock  poor  Gilgal's  pallor. 

Third  Hebrew. 
O,  this  is  eye-salve  ;  this  would  cure  the  blind  ! 
See  where  along  the  vale  go  Saul  and  Abner, 
Mowing  the  foe  down  like  two  mighty  scythes ; 
Naught  leaving  unto  those  who  follow  them. 
Except  to  stumble  o'er  the  swaths  of  dead. 

Fourth  Hebrew. 
They  be  the  reapers,  we  the  gleaners  ;  follow  : 
Stones,  if  not  steel,  shall  greet  them  in  yon  hollow. 

\Exeunt  omnes ;  and  scene  changes  to  Mount  Ephraim. 
The  Jtoise  of  the  pursuit  continues,  and  enter  a 
Hebrew,  shouting. 


76 


SA  UL. 


t 


Come  forth  from  out  your  hiding,  for  the  land 

Is  covered  with  the  fugitive  IMiilistines. 

Give  the  alarm  ;  loud  be  the  trumpet  blown  ; 

Revenge  !  revenge  !  let 's  swoop  upon  them  down. 

[A  trumpet  sounds,  and  exeunt  the  Hebrew,  and  those 
who  have  come  from  their  hiding-places ;  and  the 
scene  now  changes  to  a  wood  near  Beth-aven.  Enter 
several  Hebrews,  tired  and  panting. 

A  Hebrew. 

Let  the  Philistines  live  (those  yet  alive), 

For  to  destroy  them  strength  and  breath  are  gone  : 

Weary  are  all,  but  still  the  king  cries  "  On  !  " 

{Enter  Saul,  Ahiah,  and  a  crdvd  of  soldiers  and  people,  also 
exhausted  and  panting. ) 

Saul. 

Let  none  eat  food  till  evening,  that  revenge 

May  glut  itself,  and  the  ethereal  maw 

Of  the  starved  soul  be  gorged  ere  bodily  need 

Be  served.  —  Let  this  be  known,  and  death  the  doom 

Of  him  who  disregards  it. 

[Exeunt;   and  presently  enter  Abner  and  a  HEBREW 

Officer. 

Abner. 

O,  I  am  faint ;  and  there  is  honey  lying 
Upon  the  ground,  and  dropping  from  the  tree, 
Cool  to  allay  both  thirst  and  hunger. 

Officer, 

Taste 

It  not :  the  King  refreshment  hath  forbidden 

Under  the  heavy  penalty  of  death. 

Till  evening  falls,  and  with  it  his  last  enemy. 

I  die  myself  of  toil,  but  let  us  on. 


SAL'L.  J  J 

AnxER. 

Nay,  I  must  rest  awhile  :   I  can  no  lonfrcr 
Pursue  nor  kill :  wherefore  should  I,  too,  die 
Of  very  ardor,  and  o'ertake  i'  the  grave 
The  souls  whom  I  have  thither  sent  to-day  ? 
Why  should  I  yield  them  orgies  for  to-night, 
To  see  me  come,  who  struck  them  from  the  light? 
I  '11  rest,  although  I  eat  not. 

Offickr. 

No,  away : 
See  how  the  foe  is  wasted,  like  the  day  !  — 
Onward,  and  heed  not  your  hot,  throbbing  veins  : 
We  '11  eat  when  eve  comes,  and  no  foe  remains. 
Hark  !  I  hear  footsteps  coming  through  the  wood  : 
With  me  away  ;  nor  rest  you  shall,  nor  food. 

[Ex^mt,  and  enter  ]o'S\v\l\y,  who  dips  a  reed  which  he 
has  in  his  hand  into  the  honey,  and  while  he  is  eat- 
ing enter  soldiers. 

First  Soldier. 

O  cease,  your  Highness,  to  partake  of  death  ! 

The  King  hath  strictly  charged  us  not  to  eat 

Till  evening,  and  has  cursed  whoe'er  should  do  so. 


And  wherefore  ? 


Jonathan. 


First  Soldier. 

That  we  might  not  intermit 
The  labor  of  this  slaughter. 


Jonathan. 

{Aside,)  I  am  doomed  ! 


For  it  is  done. 


78 


SAUL. 


Second  Soldikr. 

O,  had  wc  only  seen 
Your  Highness  sooner  I 

Jonathan. 

Would  you  had  1    Away  : 

My  siic  hath  trouble  made  for  many ;  and  thwarted, 

By  this  stern  ordinance,  his  own  design 

Of  full  destruction  !     See  how  I  'm  refreshed 

By  tasting  but  a  little  of  this  honey  : 

How  much,  then,  greater,  could  we  have  eaten  freely, 

Would  the  ruin  of  the  enemy  have  been  ! 

Say  not  that  you  have  this  misfortune  seen. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE   VI. 

A  wooded  part  near  Aijalon.    Time^ei'enittg.  Saul,  Jonathan, 
Abner,  Ahiah,  OI'  kicers,  Soldikrs,  and  People. 

Saul  {having  cast  himself  reclining  against  a  bank). 

Now  for  a  little  rest ;  for  though  my  spirit 
Is  fresh,  my  body  has  no  longer  vigor. 
Bring  me  a  drink. 

{A  SohmER  presents  to  him  a  cup  of  wine.') 

No,  give  me  water :  I,  to-day,  have  poured 
Out  wine  sufficient  in  the  blood  of  foes. 

(  Water  is  brought,  and  he  drinks. ) 

Sweeter,  methinks,  that  draught  is  unto  me, 

Than  ever  was  the  warm,  spiced  juice  of  grape. 

How  little  glads  us  when  we  truly  need  1 

Sit,  friends,  for  we  are  equals  all  to-day. 

Now  bring  some  food,  and  let  those  eat  who  may. 


SAUL. 

Ahner. 
I  cannot  eat,  and  yet  T  'm  hungry  too. 

First  Officer. 
Nor  I. 

Second  Officer. 
Nor  I. 

Saul, 

Pray  you,  do  not  forego 
Some  needful  nourishment.     Regard  not  mine 
Example.     Freely  eat,  and  hoard  up  strength 
To  re-pursue  the  enemy,  before 
The  young  moon  ha^  gone  down. 

Ahiah. 

Low  in  the  west, 
Even  now  she  is,  and  from  her  lighted  censer 
Gives  but  a  weak,  though  sacred  beam  :  same  time, 
The  fragrance  born  of  yon  adjacent  wood, 
Along  the  dewy  air  diffusing  incense, 
Both  low  attending  moon  and  breath  of  balm, 
Seem  ministers  at  this  great  sacrifice 
And  wonderful  oblation  of  our  foes. 
Who,  by  miraculous  power,  this  day  have  been 
Discomfited  and  wasted. 

Saul. 

Jonathan, 
Why  silent  thou  ?    Take  food,  and  be  revived 
While  light  remains  for  labor.     See,  the  clouds 
Clear  off,  and  leave  the  expanse  o'  the  sky  serene, 
Although  obscure. 


79 


First  Officer. 
This  is  the  most  romantic 


Of  all  time's  hours ! 


t*1 
1?,:' 


hi 


l!  tl ' 


|i   ?i 


II 


80 


SAC/L. 


Hi 


Second  Officer. 

Witchcraft  now  seems  to  hanj; 
Between  ihc  horns  o'  tlie  moon,  whose  low  hght  fails 
To  fill  the  darksome  chamber  of  the  night, 
That  now  appears,  to  my  imagination, 
Upgiven  to  magic  and  the  spells  profane 
Of  sorcerers,  and  hags  whose  bodies  bend 
Crone-crookdd  as  yon  moon,  from  evil  years 
Spent  nightly  gazing,  in  the  gloom}'  glass 
Of  potent  caldrons,  for  the  summoned  face 
Of  their  familiar  demon.     Art  thou  net, 

0  Saul,  afraid  of  the  magicians'  charms, 
Directed  'gainst  thee  fc»r  their  rooting  out  ? 

Saul. 

1  fear  them  not,  nor  anything  that  comes 
Within  the  range  of  their  claimed  ministry  ; 
Whether  ghosts  of  the  departed,  or  bad  angels 
Who  ('t  is  affirmed)  are  sold  into  their  service 
For  the  price  of  their  own  souls  :  yea,  if  the  Devil 
Now  stood  alone  by  me  on  this  dusk  field, 

I  'd  snub  him  with  ill  manners.     Yet  the  moon 
Wears  unto  me  the  same  weird  aspect  as 
She  wears  to  thee  :  and  when  I  was  .^  ooy, 
I  was  (as  even  to  this  hour  I  am) 
Enchanted  by  the  horror  of  this  quarter; 
Loving  it  more  than  when,  her  face  expanding, 
The  dim  equivocation  wears  away, 
Until  at  full  she  languishes  i'  th'  sky, 
And  shines  down  Uke  an  angel. 


ir 


« 


First  Officer. 

Spectre-like, 
And  with  a  few  spectator  stars,  she  goes 


Jl 


SAUL. 


8i 


Down  westward,  as  if  leading  the  obsequies 

Of  those  of  her  idolatrous  worshippers, 

Who,  by  their  own  swords  or  by  ours,  have  perished 

Since  broke  this  day's  strange  morning. 

Saul. 

Hearken  how 

The  mournful,  mocking,  deep  resurgent  blast 
Sighs  through  yon  cypress'  tops  the  dismal  dirge 
Of  the  remainder  ;  whom  their  own  cisi'ed  goddess, 
Pale  Ashtaroth,  shall  from  heaven's  verge  see  scud. 
Like  phantoms  fleeting  o'er  the  shadowy  ground  ; 
For  soon  we  will  re  urge  the  invader's  flight. 
Nor  leave  one  breathing  by  the  morning  light. 

[Enter  a  Levite.) 

Levite. 
Your  Majesty,  the  ravening  multitude 
Eat  from  the  cattle's  quivering  carcasses. 
Which  they  in  haste  have  slaughtered  on  the  field, 
And  but  half  drained  of  blood  ;  offending  heaven. 

Sajl. 
This  must  not :  hither  roll  a  broad-based  stone, 
And  let  each  man  v'bif^i'cr  he  has  to  kill 
Bring  here,  and  Juiv  Jress  it  in  our  sight. 
Disperse  youtselvi's  awhile  among  the  people. 
And  all  send  hefe  who  've  aught  to  kill  for  food. 

[Exit  the  Levite. 
{Aside.)  Now  my  first  altar  iv  the  Lord  I  '11  build, 
And  him  at  once  propitiate,  that  so 
He  may  continue  this  prosperity, 
That,  like  a  copious,  unexpected  shower 
After  long  drought,  makes  green  my  heart,  long  sere, 
And  withering  'neath  misgivings.     Ahiah,  choose 
From  out  the  herd  the  fairest  sacrifice.         [Exit  XniKM. 


' 


82 


SAUL. 


(31 
■it 


Abner. 

So  be  it  gladly  done,  wise  V\x\.<g  and  cousin. 
Let  not  the  God  of  Battles  be  forgot, 
Lest  he  again  forget  ourselves.     'T  is  meet 
We  did  acknowledge  this  deliverance, 
Heaven-wrought  ;  and  ere  we  gratulate  the  Prince, 
Chief  warrior  in  this  wondrous  feat  of  arms, 
Upsend  the  smoke  of  offering  to  the  skies. 

{A  rude  altar  is  quickly  built,  and,  Xinxn  kaving  sacrificed 

thereon,) 

Saul  (aside). 
'  Now,  with  a  conscience  cleared,  and  'suaged  the  fears 
That  ruffled  the  fair  down  of  my  existence. 
Erelong  let  me  resume  the  grateful  toil 
Of  war  defensive,  all  whose  aim  is  peace. 

( Turning  to  those  before  him. ) 

Friends,  ere  the  moon,  gone  down,  shall  us  no  longer 

Enable  to  distinguish  friend  from  foe, 

We  will  rebend  ourselves  to  the  pursuit : 

The  rallied  (if  any  rally)  we  '11  o'ertake, 

And  leave  no  sullying  dreg  of  the  invaders 

Alive  upon  our  soil  at  peep  of  morn. 

{Acclamation,  amidst  ivhich  enters  Ahiah.) 

Ahiah. 
Let  us  consult  Jehovah  ;  all  draw  near. 

Saul. 
Ask  may  1  repursue  them  ;  and,  if  so, 
Shall  I  be  able  to  destroy  their  remnant 

( Whilst  Ahiah  seeks  an  answer  from  God,  enter  two  ^Zaph  S 

Demons,  meeting.) 


SA  L'L. 

First  Demon. 
Ah,  my  goisip,  art  thou  here  ? 

Second  Demon. 
Ah,  old  crony,  pray  what  cheer  ? 


83 


Moderate. 


First  Demon. 

Se'^ond  Demon. 
They  say  that 's  best. 


First  Demon. 
Prithee,  grant  me  my  request. 
Tell  me,  tell  me,  tell  me,  pray,  — 
Thinkest  thou  the  Lord  will  say 
Whether  Saul  shall  further  slay  ? 

Second  Demon. 

Pshaw  !     I  've  no  vaticination.  — 
To  us  what 's  Saul  and  his  probation  ? 

First  Demon. 
Thou  'rL  a  critic. 

Second  Demon. 
Ami? 

First  Demon. 
Yes. 

Second  Demon. 

Critics  are  nor  more  rior  less 
Than  arrant  fools. 

First  Demon. 

Thou  seem'st  in  dudgeon. 

Second  Demon. 
I  'm  as  I  seem  :  come,  let  us  trudge  on. 


>!l 


1  (;  f 


If 


'IP 


II 


;' 


84 


SAUL. 


First  Demon. 
Whither  goest  thou  ? 

Second  Demon. 

To  Mount  Tabor, 
To  rest  rnc  from  my  morning's  labor. 

First  Demon. 

Labor !  sport :  for  we  'd  much  mirth 
This  morning,  churning  up  the  earth. 

Second  Demon. 

Had  you  }    Then  you  do  not  rue  it.  — 
'T  was  tyranny  to  make  us  do  it. 
Mirth,  indeed  I 

First  Demon. 

Who  made  that  moaning  ? 

Second  Demon. 

'T  was  I  that  played  the  part  of  groaning ; 

And  with  a  will  too,  in  the  key  due, 

A  natural  sorrow  from  me  toning.  — 

Let 's  away. 

First  Demon. 

I  '11  see  the  end  on  't. 

Second  Demon. 
But  so  so,  thou  mayest  depend  on  't. 

First  Demon. 
"  But  so  so  !  "     I  see  not  why. 

Second  Demon. 
Look  again,  and  tell  me  then  : 
For  already  I  can  spy 


rn 


« 


HP 


SAUL. 

Rising  trouble, 

Like  a  bubble, 

Brewing  in  the  priest's  dark  eye. 

If  my  ken 

Be  not  dimmer  grown  towards  men, 

Soon  will  he  to  Saul  reply. 

Ahiah. 
God  doth  not  answer  thee. 


85 


Saul. 


And  wherefore  ? 


Ahiah. 

I 

Know  not,  but  he  is  silent. 

Saul, 

What  the  wrong, 
And  who  is  the  wrong-doer  ?  as  God  lives. 
Although  it  were  mine  own  son  Jonathan, 
He  for  his  yet  unknown  misdeed  should  die. 
(Saul  patises,  and  none  answer  him.) 
Now  every  one  of  you  to  one  side  gather, 
And  I  and  Jonathan  will  take  the  other  ; 
Then  let  the  lot  be  cast,  which  God  dispose. 
(  T/ie  people  having  retired  to  one  hand,  and  the  King  and  Jon- 
athan to  the  other,  Ahiah  draxus  the  lot,  and  the  King 
««</ Jonathan  are  taken,  the  people  escaping.) 

{Aside.)  How  is  't  that  evil  must  thus  dog  my  steps  ! 
{Aloud.)  Come,  cast  the  lot  between  my  son  and  me. 

(Jonathan  is  taken.) 
{Aside.)  Now  God  assist  me  to  endure  my  portion  I 
{Aloud.)  Jonathan,  speak,  and  say  what  thou  hast  done  1 


I    i  j 


{    I 


S6 


SAUL. 


Jonathan. 

Alas  !  this  only  have  I  clone.     I  took 

A  little  honey  with  a  rod  I  bore  ; 

And  for  this  simple  deed,  then,  I  must  die. 

Saul. 

O  that  my  curse  should  fall  upon  myself! 
Saul,  Saul,  rash  man,  now  let  the  sceptre  drop 
Sheer  from  thy  hands,  for  thou  hast  slain  its  heir. 
O  Jonathan,  my  dear  son  Jonathan, 
Alas,  alas  for  thee,  for  thou  must  die  ! 

One  of  the  Crowd. 
O  hideous  wrong  !  what  wouldst  thou  do,  O  King? 
Thy  son  too,  —  God  forbid !     Shall  he  die,  he,  — 
He  who  began  this  victory  ?     As  God  lives 
Thou  shalt  not  hurt  a  hair  of  him,  for  he 
Hath  worked  with  heaven  to-day. 

(^'  great  uproar^  amidst  luhich  the  people  rescue  JONATHAN, 
and  bear  him  away. ) 

Saul. 

They  break  my  oath, 

Not  I.     O  Jonathan,  thou  'rt  saved  ;  but  I 

Had  near  destroyed  thee  !     Foolishly  I  swore, 

Forbidding  to  eat ;  —  but  who  can  see  the  end 

Of  many  a  fine  beginning  .''     My  command 

Has  acted  as  the  goad  acts  on  the  ass. 

For  it  has  brought  us  sudden  to  a  halt,  — 

Stopt  ed  the  pursuit's  swift  arrow.     Abner,  see 

Our  sentries  posted  :  speak  not  to  me  now. 

[Exit  Abner. 
Surely  there  is  a  blight  within  the  ear 

Denying  me  a  harvest.     Jonathan 

May  reap  when  I  am  dead ;  but  I  shall  never 


SAUL. 


87 


;: 


Garner  within  my  bosom  sheaves  of  peace. 

Heaven  hath  a  quarrel  with  me  ;  Heaven 

Surely  denies  perfection  to  my  deeds. 

Ye  fast-appearing  and  sky-peopling  stars, 

'S'c  see  me,  in  victory,  mournful.     1  '11  seek  rest, 

And  ye,  whilst  o'er  my  head  you  vigils  keep, 

Kindle  dreams  of  home  and  Ahinoam  in  my  sleep. 

\Exit. 

Second  Demon. 
Let  us,  too,  go. 

First  Demon. 
But  not  to  dream. 

Second  Demon. 
Why,  spirit,  no,  —  though  well 't  might  seem, 
We  dream  while  waking,  wake  while  dream, 
Or  one  eternal  vigil  keep  :  — 
How  can  the  soul,  surceasing,  sleep  ? 

First  Demon. 
*T  is  even  so.  —  Where  shall  we  go  ? 
To  Tabor,  or  to  Mount  Nebo, 
Or  to  the  never-slumbering  deep  ? 
Oft  on  its  margin  brown  I  love 
Sit  brooding  hke  a  sable  dove  ; 
As  sable  dove,  sit  out  at  sea, 
Full  oft  by  night  it  pleaseth  me ; 
And  now,  upon  its  earthy  brim. 
To  sit  were  pleasant,  in  the  dim  ; 
There,  rapt,  to  muse  on  prophecies, 
Or  read  the  volume  of  the  skies. 


Ha,  ha! 


Second  Demon. 


88 


^AUL. 


First  Demon. 

Or,  what  were  better  yet, 
Away  to  wing  where  winds  low  fret 
Soft  music  from  Genesaret ; 
Or  sit  where,  ever  bald,  abides 
Gray  Carmel,  listening  to  the  tides  ; 
Or  rest  on  hoary  Hermon  high, 
Stood  shining,  shield-like,  in  the  sky ; 
Else  swift  to  grander,  gloomier  one, 
The  solemn,  cedared  Lebanon,  — 
There,  Sardon,  dear,  let  us  be  gone. 

Second  Demon. 

No  more,  no  more  of  this  :   Good  by  : 
To  none  of  these  I  choose  career, 
But,  spurning  planetary  sphere. 
Go  cool  my  choler  in  the  sky  : 
And  haply,  all  night  hovering  near, 
May  watch  the  spot  where  Saul  doth  lie. 

[Exeunt  different  ways. 


is***» 


ACT    IV. 


SCENE  I. 
Giheah.     An  apartment  in  ?)\V\h  palace.     Enter  ZhTYl. 

Zapii. 

The  insult  that  proud  Gloriel  on  me  put 

In  the  affair  at  Michmash  rankles  in  me. 

Some  wrongo  there  are  which  never  can  be  pardoned. 

Moreo'er  revenge  is  pleasant ;  Satan  never 

Forgives  ;  neither  will  Zaph  in  this  case  do  so. 

I  Gloriel  hate,  first  on  the  general  score 

Of  our  antagonistic  offices, 

Then  on  the  especial  of  his  last  oppression  : 

And  now  I  know  what  I  will  do.     Towards  Saul 

I  bear  no  malice,  neither  is  there  out 

Against  him  Satan's  warrant,  since  he  's  scarcely 

Jehovah's  minion.     But  I  will  bait  him  ; 

One  of  my  troop  I  '11  set  upon  his  soul, 

On  purpose  to  spite  Gloriel.  —  Softly,  lo  1 

Here  comes  his  guardian  angel  to  expel  me. 

{Exit  in  haste^  and  ZoR  crosses  the  apartment  after  him  ; 
then  enter  Two  Officers  of  the  royal  household. 

First  Officer. 

Now,  surely,  we  shall  have  a  lasting  peace ; 
For  since  the  King  arose  from  his  prostration, 


lilt 


90 


s.tri. 


After  the  base  desertion  borne  at  (jilgal, 
lie  has  dealt  round  him  such  a  storm  of  battles, 
That  all  the  enemies  of  our  race  are  down, 
And  buried  'neath  his  heap  of  victories. 

Second  Officer. 

Discourse  of  Satan  and  he  will  appear ; 

Though  that 's  a  saw  ungracious  towards  the  king, 

Who  can  be  very  gracious  when  he  wills. 

He  's  coming  here  to  walk  and  talk  alone, 

And  never  's  in  company  more  to  his  mind 

Than  his  own  thoughts  in  words  half  muttered.    Hence  : 

Our  staying  might  give  unto  him  offence. 

[Exeunt  Officers  and  enter  Saul. 

Saul. 

All  have   succumbed  before    me;  —  Moab,   Amnion, 

Edom ; 
The  Kings  of  Zobah,  and  the  fierce  Philistines  ; 
Nor  have  the  Amalckitcs  unhumbled  gone  : 
None  now  dare  spoil  us,  and  my  throne  seems  settled. 
That  Samuel  said  was  given  to  another.  — 
Surely  it  was  the  peevishness  of  dotage 
That  to  such  outbreak  prompted  the  old  man.  — 
Ah,  even  while  I  speak  of  him,  behold, 
All  venerable  in  his  silver  hairs 
And  pomp  of  years,  he  comes  !  —  and  not  for  naught. 
What  is  the  burden  that  he  will  deliver  ? 

[Enter  Samuel.) 
What  wouldst  thou,  Samuel  ? 

Samuel. 

Listen  unto  me. 
Jehovah  caused  me  to  anoint  thee  King 


SA  UL. 

Over  his  people  Israel ;  so  now 

Hearken  unto  his  voice.     Jehovah  saith, 

Go  and  smite  Amalek  ;  for  I  remember 

How  he  hiid  wait  for  Israel  in  the  desert, 

As  he  came  up  from  Egypt.     Cut  thou  off 

Man,  woman,  youth,  maid,  child,  and  infant,  all ; 

Camel,  ox,  ass,  and  sheep  ;  spare  naught  whatever. 


91 


Exterminate  them  ? 


Saul. 


Samuel. 
Utterly  destroy  them. 

Saul. 

Women  and  babes,  and  those  by  years  made   help- 
less ?  — 
Dearly  indeed  now  will  the  children  pay 
For  what  their  sires  did  in  a  long-past  day, 

Samuel. 

Moses  hath  told  us  that  the  parents'  sin 

Upon  the  children  should  be  visited  : 

And  what  are  days  to  the  Eternal  ?     Go.  — 

Why  dost  thou  question,  —  to  obey  seem  slow  ? 

\_ExU. 
Saul. 

Samuel,  thou'rt  too  imperious,  or  I'm 

Too  proud  and  unforgiving.  —  No  adieu 

He  deigned  me,  nor,  with  hands  imposed. 

Left  me  his  blessing  ;  —  but  I  can  forego  it. 

And  could  with  ease  have  now  foregone  his  presence. 

'T  is  strange,  this  visit ;  it  is  very  strange. 

Why  comes  he  unto  me  with  God's  commission 

If  I  'm  of  God  dismissed  ?    This  looks  dishonest ; 

This  silently  yet  surely  contradicts 


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92  SAUL. 

His  declaration  of  my  forfeiture 

Of  Israel's  sceptre,  that  which  often  seems 

A  prophecy  still  hanging  o'er  me  dire, 

One  day  to  be  fulfilled.     I  '11  think  no  more 

Of  that !     Why  was  I  shaken  with  words,  when  deeds 

Have  not  the  power  to  move  me  ? —  Samuel,  Samuel, 

Either  the  Lord  spoke  not  by  thee  at  Gilgal 

Or  speaks  not  by  thee  now.     I  have  heard  tell 

Of  hoary  men  being  perjured  ;  of  false  prophets  ; 

Of  lying  spirits  sent  them  from  the  Lord. 

None  are  beyond  the  compass  of  temptation.  — 

Haply  the  seer  and  others  have  conspired 

For  my  dethronement ;  or  they  seek  my  life, 

That  they  may  gain  possession  of  my  crown : 

Hence  with  this  mandate  Samuel  comes  to  me 

(Whom  he  has  found  too  unobsequious), 

Thinking  that  Death  shall  meet  me  on  the  field 

Of  this  grim  expedition.     No,  'tis  wild,- 

And  impious  to  think  r^ !     Yet  wild  things 

And  impious  have  happened.     Ah,  if  there, 

Indeed,  be  somewhere  an  ambitious  wight 

Now  coveting  my  throne,  let  him  beware  ; 

For  if  mine  eye  should  light  on  him,  and  know  him, 

I  will  not  say  the  horror  of  his  doom  ; 

But  it  should  be  appalling.     'T  is  the  mood  ; 

This  is  the  very  pitch  of  Heaven's  harsh  rhythm. 

Though  Gilgal  feigned.,  herein  I  feel  Hea'.  en  speaks 

To  me  by  Samuel.     Mercy,  hence,  and.  Sword, 

Come  forth,  and  do  the  bidding  of  the  Lord.         \Exit, 


IS 


SAUL. 


93 


SCENE   II. 


Before  a  beleaguered  city  of  the  Amalekites.     Saul,  Arnf.r, 
Hebrew  Soldiers,  and  Kenites,  —  the  last  bavailing. 

Saul  {addressing  the  Kknites). 

Weep  not  for  the  destruction  of  your  goods, 
But  haste,  depart  from  'mong  the  Amalekites, 
Lest  1  destroy  you  and  your  households  with  them. 

Kenites. 
Alas !  alas ! 

Saul. 

Wring  not  your  hands,  but  go. 
Your  fathers  once  to  ours  assistance  rendered, 
Hence  towards  you  this  good-will ;  escape  at  once  ; 
Quick,  get  you  gone,  or  ere  it  be  too  late.  — 

[Exeunt  Kenites. 
Saidst  thou  the  city  was  surrounded,  Abner  ? 

Abner. 
I  did. 

Saul. 

On  every  hand  1 

Abner. 

At  every  point. 

Saul. 

We  will  surprise  it,  then.     Do  thou  lead  on 
Those  who  assault  the  rearward  of  the  place, 
Whilst  I  assail  its  front.     When  we  shall  meet 
'Twill  be  midway  in  a  domain  of  death  ; 
Shaking  hands  across  a  bank  of  bloody  corpses. 


94 


SA  UL. 


ii.iii:! 


Drive  pity  from  thy  breast ;  no  quarter  give, 
For  to  destruction  are  devoted  all. 

Abner. 
All !    O  all  unexampled  rigor  !  all ! 
Women  and  children,  infants,  hoary  heads? 

Saul. 
Even  just-born  babes  that  have  not  drawn  the  breast 
Must  die ;  and  those  that  have  not  seen  the  light, 
Within  expectant  mothers  killed  by  fright. 
There  must  no  seed  be  left  to  raise  new  harvest. 
Pity  hear  not  though  strongly  it  plead  in  thee. 
Drown  them  in  their  own  blood  ;  pound  them  together, 
And  trample  out  the  living  fire  of  Amalek. 
There,  I  have  finished  ordinance  as  dire 
As  ever  mortal  gave.     'T  is  Heaven  requires  . 

This  rigorous  execution  at  my  hand. 
Or  I  could  not  have  given  such  fell  command. 

Abner.  "      ' 

O,  let  us  cover  us  with  the  cowl  of  night 
When  we  perform  it.     Yet  of  slight  avail 
Were  darkness  ;  for  at  whatsoever  hour 
We  paint  this  picture,  its  pervading  crimson 
Will  set  the  heavens  on  fire.     O  Saul !  O  Saul ! 
What  go  we  do  1     I  dreamed  not  that  our  mission 
Urged  us  so  far  into  the  realm  of  vengeance. 

Saul. 

Go,  now  begin  ;  —  go,  ere  I  cry  out,  "  Spare  !  " 

Go,  and  believe  it  to  be  but  man  slaughter 

When  women's  and  children's  blood  is  shed  like  water. 

\_Exit  Abner. 
Now  let  me  tighten  every  cruel  sinew, 

And  gird  the  whole  up  in  unfeeling  hardness  ; 


SA  UL. 


95 


That  my  swollen  heart,  which  bleeds  within  nie  tears, 
May  choke  itself  to  stillness.     I  am  as 
A  shivering  bather  that  upon  the  shore, 
Looking  and  shrinking  at  the  cold  black  waves, 
Quick,  starting  from  his  revery,  with  a  rush 
Annihilates  his  horror.    Now  to  the  deed. 
Hebrews,  come  on  ;  glut  your  dislike  of  old, 
And  curst  be  he  who  spares  for  love  or  gold. 

Ti  \Exeunt  Saul  and  Soldiers. 


SCENE    III. 

The  midst  of  the  tmvn.  Noise  of  the  tnassacre  ;  the  which  hav- 
ing subsided,  efiter  Saul  and  Soldiers  from  one  hand^ 
and  Abner  and  Soldiers  from  the  other,  meeting. 

Saul, 
Art  thou  with  blood  not  blinded  ? 


Abner. 

Thou  look'st  grimmer 
Than  ever  I  beheld  thee  ;  even  when  Nahash 
Thou  huntedst  down  from  morning  until  noon, 
And  dyed  his  flight-path  red. 

.    Saul. 

No  more ;  't  is  done. 

Abner. 

Would  it  were  not  !     I  hated  the  Amalekites ; 
But  such  a  deed  — 

Saul. 

It  is  not  thine,  nor  mine. 


'!» 


96 


SAUL. 


Abner. 

Thou  knowest  if  tliis  had  not  been  of  God, 
1  'd  disobeyed  thee. 

Saul. 
I  had  not  commanded 
Without  Heaven's  sanction.     Samuel  stands  alone 
Herein  responsible.     Let  us  cut  short 
Our  colloquy.     Leave  some  to  bury  the  dead, 
Lest  pestilence  fill  the  air.  —  Cease  grieving,  m.an  : 
The  agony  is  passed  ;  the  slain  arc  easier 
Now  than  the  slayers  :  it  is  we  want  pity.         "^ 
No  one  now  suffers  from  thy  trenchant  blade. 
The  lambs  which  thou  hast  killed  and  wrapped  in  gore 
Sleep  painless,  and  will  wake  to  pain  no  more. 

Abner.  '       ' 

Who  will  not  call  me  butcher  !  * 


Saul. 

What  is  done 
Is  done  ;  and  have  not  I  in  this  red  pool 
Waded  as  deep  as  thou  ?     Be  comforted  : 
Remember,  when  our  fathers  Canaan  took 
All  to  the  sword  were  put :  this  is  not  new. 

Abner. 
There 's  some  relief  in  that. 

Saul. 

Much,  all-sufficient. 
Consider,  too,  men  move  not  much  our  pity  : 
Men  are  our  counterparts,  and  these  were  all 
Hereditary  enemies  of  ours. 


SAUL. 


97 


Abner. 

But  women  !  the  resemblance  of  our  mothers, 

And  of  our  sisters,  as  methought  they  seemed, 

When,  with  their  upraised  hands  and  frantic  looks, 

They  fled  before  us  ;  or,  without  defenders, 

In  fathers,  husbands,  brothers,  all  cut  off, 

Stayed  kneeling  and   bowed  down  their  meek  white 

necks 
Before  us  to  receive  the  scymetar. 

Saul. 
I  prithee  peace  ;  Abner,  I  prithee  peace. 

Abner. 

I  often  in  my  rage  thought  on  my  daughter.  — 
And,  oh  !  to  see  the  little  ones,  that  those 
Damned  brutes  carved  up  so  cheerfully,  or  dashed 
Against  the  stones  their  brains  out. 


Saul. 
Abner. 


Prithee  peace. 


T  cannot  hold. 

Saul. 

Ah,  I  could  rave,  too,  Abner. 
But  that  I  dare  not  let  my  thoughts  have  birth. 
Much  less  array  those  embryo  thoughts  in  words, 
I  should  deliver  me  of  such  conception 
As  would  appall  the  reverent  ear  of  men. 
And  make  me  seem,  even  what  I  fear  I  am. 
The  Omnipotent's  accuser.     But  let 's  cease. 
And  keep  stern  silence  from  this  very  day 
Touching  this  dreadful  business  :  let  our  hearts 
(Like  smoky  rooms)  blacken  with  their  pent-up  grief. 
But  never  let  us  willingly  recall  it. 

5  O 


<t  ,>1, 


98 


SACL. 


%:[':),\ 


Abner.  ' 

'T  will  come  without  recall !     As  breaks  the  day 
Unto  the  wretch  who  has  that  day  to  die, 
So  will  it  come  to  me  unwelcome. 

Let 

It  come  ;  and  bid  it  back  unto  the  deep, 
To  perish  there  amidst  the  gathering  gloom 
Of  ever-falling  shadows.     This  is  grim  ; 
But  time  dulls  deeds  as  it  doth  torches  dim. 
Persist  not,  cousin,  with  this  torch-like  passion, 
Waved  midst  imagination's  darksome  field, 
To  conjure  glimpses  of  upbraiding  ghosts, 
To  people  and  perforce  perplex  thy  soul.  — 
What 's  Amalek  to  thee  ?     And  how  canst  thou 
Be  foul,  though  dashed  with  bloodiest  aspersion, 
When  laving  duty  from  offence  doth  leave 
Thy  spirit  pure  as  scented  garments  clean  ? 

.-  Abner. 

O  that  these  hands  were  clean  1 

Saul. 

Be  foul  the  hand, 
If  but  the  heart  be  fair !     'T  is  not  the  deed. 
But  't  is  the  motive  that  induced  the  deed, 
That  gives  the  soul  complexion.     Bid  remorse 
Find  out  its  proper  prey. 

Abner. 
I  will. 


Saul. 


Thyself  no  longer. 


Upbraid 


^ 


SA  VL.  Q(j 

Abner. 

I  am  dumb  ;  —  ah,  could 
I  so  remain!     1  cannot  on  this  theme 
Be  speechless  ;  but  whatever  tint  may  wear 
My  other  deeds,  past  or  to  come,  I  '11  say. 
Or  bloody  red,  or  be  I  ingrained  black, 
Herein  I  'm  white  as  childhood's  innocence. 

Saul. 
May  Heaven  hold  both  guiltless  !     Let  us  go  ; 
The  men  are  wondering  at  our  parley.     Come, 
We  Ve  but  begun  ;  we  must  the  race  uproot : 
Betake  we  to  the  horrible  pursuit. 

\Exeunt  omnes. 


SCENE    IV. 

Country  near  Shur.     An  Atnalekitish  tcnvn  seen  in  a  state  of 
ruin.     Enter t^vo  Hebrew  Soldiers. 

First  Soldier. 

Let  us  put  up  our  blades  ;  for  not  a  blade 
Seems  standing  on  the  Amalekites'  wide  mead, 
So  ruthless  have  we  mown  down  life  thereon, 
And,  with  the  sudden  sickle  of  our  coming, 
Reaped  red,  prodigious  harvest  of  old  hate. 

Second  Soldier. 

From  Havilah  to  Shur  we  have  destroyed  them. 
By  the  reward  that  waits  on  deeds  well  done 
Will  not  Jehovah  now  upon  us  smile  ! 

First  Soldier. 

Doubtless  he  will.     'T  is  pleasant,  too,  to  feed 
Thus  the  keen  appetite  of  a  gnawing  grudge. 


lOO 


SAUL, 


Whilst  we  perform  the  mandate  of  Jehovah, 
And  work  with  his  commission.     'T  is  as  though 
We  banqueted  on  meats,  that,  while  they  gave 
The  present  palate  exquisite  delight, 
We  knew  should  furnish  us  with  surplus  strength 
To  last  for  many  days  ;  or  't  is  as  though 
We  feasted  with  soft  music  floating  round  us. 
When  I  was  killing,  such  thoughts  came  to  me,  like 
The  sound  of  cleft-dropped  waters  to  the  ear 
Of  the  hot  mower,  who  stops  thereat  the  oftener 
To  whet  his  glittering  scythe,  and,  while  he  smiles, 
With  the  harsh,  sharpening  hone,  beats  their  fall's  time, 
And,  dancing  to  it  in  his  heart's  strait  chamber, 
Forgets  that  he  is  weary. 

Second  Soldier. 
Even  so 
During  this  wild  destruction  I  have  found  it.  • 

To  me,  along  the  slaughter's  lengthened  roar. 
It  seemed  as  though  some  pliant,  deep,  bass  voice 
Made  —  whether  the  note  was  from  babes'  voices  shrill, 
Or  frantic  women's,  or  oaths  or  howls  of  men  — 
Harmony  to  each  occasion. 

First  Soldier. 

None  are  spared. 
{Enter  tivo  other  ^Q\A)\^^'s>.) 

Third  Soldier. 
Yes  ;  Saul  hath  spared  their  King. 

Fourth  Soldier. 

And  we  have  spared 
The  choicest  of  their  cattle  and  their  sheep, 
As  sacrifice  to  Heaven. 


•SV/  I'f..  I  o  I 

First  Soi.dikr, 

Is  their  King,  *  • 

Too,  spared  to  be  a  sacrifice  to  Heaven? 

Second  Soldier. 
Why  hath  Saul  spared  their  King  ? 

Third  Soldier. 

Perhaps  to  be 
A  mockery  for  Gibeah's  gaping  rabble. 

Fourth  Soldier. 

Dost  thou  not  know  that  like  affects  its  like  ? 
The  king  has  spared  the  king. 

Second  Soldier. 

But  we  have  not 
The  subjects  spared,  who  are  our  like.     Besides, 
We  were  to  finish  them  :   I  have  obeyed 
Unto  my  uttermost. 

Third  Soldier. 
Sol. 

Fourth  Soldier. 
And  I, 
Little  thanks.     It  is  not  in  man's  nature,  more 
Than  it  is  in  the  beast's  full,  panting  heart, 
To  spare  his  quarry  when  he 's  roused  by  hunting  it. 
There  goes  our  king.     How  conqueror-Uke  he  stalks !  — 
And  yet  methinks  that  he  is  sorrowful. 

Third  Soldier. 

I  could  be  sad  too,  but  I  shall  not.     Pshaw ! 
Why  should  the  sword  grieve  ?     Let  the  wielder. 
Have  but  obeyed  the  King. 


It 


i''    ,'1 


(I 


102 


SAUL. 


FouuTH  Soldier. 

Let 's  follow  him. 
'T  is  said  wc  back  by  Caimel. 

First  Soldier. 

Then  let 's  sing. 

[Exeunt ^  singing. 
By  Carmel,  by  Carniel, 

We  travel  back  from  war  will :  — 

Old  Carmel,  old  Carmel, 

Behind  us  slaughter,  before  us  water 

We  '11  see  from  ancient  Carmel. 


;i    "I 


*! 


SCENE  V 

Ratnah  ;  an  aparttnent  in  the  house  of  Samuel,     An  AngEL 

descends.  * 

Angel. 

Saul's  early  piety  having  wasted  quite, 

Jehovah  rues  that  he  hath  made  him  king  ; 

To  thus  inform  the  prophet,  from  heaven's  height 

I  come  commanded  from  light's  lofty  spring  : 

So  Samuel,  when  fair  day's  last  beams  take  flight, 

To  learn  God's  will  must  droop  beneath  the  hght, 

Descending  on  him  from  my  hovering  wing. 

Here  't  is  he  sleeps,  and  here  by  daily  prayer 

Labors  for  Israel :  here  upon  the  law 

By  day  he  ponders,  and  when  shadows  draw 

Around  him,  lying  on  his  silent  couch, 

Shall  see  me  through  the  starry  air  approach  ; 

For  I  to-night  access  must  to  him  find, 

And  stamp  on  his,  Jehovah's  altered  mind. 

[Angel  disappears. 


•iiMii 


irtitittwrnifiillt 


SAUL, 


103 


SCENE   VI. 

Near   Gilgal.      Time,    morning;.      The  army  of  Saul  seen 
marching  home.     Enter  Saul. 

Saul. 

The  morn  opes  wildly,  —  't  will  be  rain  to-day. 

I  never  marched  so  heavily,  although 

The  gladsome  rank  and  file  dance  on  before  me. 

{Enter  QUKF.N.) 
My  Ahinoam!  what  is  it  brings  thee  hither? 

Queen. 

Ask  of  the  swallow  wh,.t  't  is  brings  him  to  us. 
And  he  will  tell  thee  't  is  the  approach  of  sumn-ier : 
So  thine  appi  .  ich  has  drawn  me  to  thee  hither. 

Saul. 

Am  I  thy  summer,  my  Gibcan  Queen  ? 
But  thou  art  not  the  swallow,  Ahinoam  ;  — 
For,  now  I  think  on  't,  't  is  not  happily  chosen 
Thy  simile  of  that  wanderer,  —  since  he  leaves  us 
At  peep  of  wintry  weather  :  and,  remember, 
The  swallow  is  a  byword  grown  in  Israel, 
Since  when  my  army  fled,  like  birds  of  passage, 
At  Gilgal's  sudden  chill. 

Queen. 

Forget  that  now. 

Saul. 

I  read  thine  eye.     The  Amalekites  have  perished ; 
None  saved  save  he  who  merited  the  sword, 


104 


SAUL. 


Huplj%  beyond  the  others  who  were  doomed 
To  feel  its  keen  destruction,  —  even  their  king. 

Queen. 
Have  all  his  wives,  too,  perished,  and  his  children? 

Saul. 

All  from  his  loins  (for  no  one  thought  of  mercy)  : 
And  all  of  womankind  who  called  him  husband 
Had  been  cut  off  ere  he  was  taken. 

Queen. 

Then, 
Let  him  die  too.     If  he  be  man,  he  will 
Not  live,  but  will  request  thee  yet  to  end  him. 

Saul. 
I  half  repent  me  that  I  did  not  do  it.         , 

Queen. 

Couldst  cast  him  back  into  his  harried  realm, 

As  might  some  fisher  from  his  bursting  net 

Throw  back  a  scaly  monster  to  its  flood  :  — 

But  no  :  why  do  I  fondly  talk  ?  —  he  can 

No  more  return  to  that  which  is  no  more  ; 

Nor  can  he  live,  if  he  indeed  be  man, 

Still  in  his  conqueror  and  destroyer's  power, 

More  than  leviathan  could  live  ashore. 

Poor  wretch  forlorn  !     Is  nothing  left  him?  naught? 

Saul. 

Nothing  of  his  was  spared,  except  a  few 
Choice  sheep  and  cattle.     These  the  people  saved, 
And  have  brought  hither  to  be  sacrificed.  — 
Some  to  the  Lord  were  sacrificed  at  Carmel. 


SAUL.  105 

Queen. 

Saul,  thou  art  made  a  minister  of  vengeance. 
And  must  perform  thine  office  ;  but  may  God 
Forgive  my  weeping  o'er  thy  finished  mission ! 

Saul. 

My  morning  star,  let  me  wipe  off  these  dews 

That  dim  thoe  in  this  unexpected  rising. 

Ahinoam,  far  dearer  than  that  star 

Is  to  the  hour  of  dawn,  art  thou  to  me 

Now,  when  home  coming,  gloomy  though  successful. 

Lift  up  thine  eyes  upon  me,  love,  and  drive 

From  out  me  my  black  darkness. 

Queen. 

Husband  dear, 
Haste  home  with  me  to  Gibeah,  where  new  sights 
May  cause  forgetfulness  of  what  is  past. 

Saul. 
I  never  can  forget  the  dreadful  past :  — 
Oh,  I  could  paint  thee  pictures  with  my  tongue 
(Scenes  drawn  from  out  of  Amalek's  great  anguish) 
From  morn  till  midnight,  till  thine  eyes  grew  redder 
Than  blood  itself  with  weeping.     Forget  them  !  no  : 
Such  scenes  resemble  not  the  forms  that  children 
Sketch  on  the  stones,  and  that  the  rain  outwashes. 
Ahinoam,  I  'm  a  soldier,  and  have  seen 
War  many  times  ;  but  all  here  seemed  hke  murder. 
Such  cries  of  youths,  such  shrieks,  such  looks  of  women ; 
Such  chorus  of  promiscuous  sounds,  imploring 
Mercy  from  men,  —  nay,  men  let  me  not  call  them,  — 
Who  met  those  melting  scu<ids  with  hideous  laughter, 
And  out  of  countenance  grinned  the  encirclinj;  air, 
That  stagnant  stood  with  horror. 


■S9! 


msm 


tarn 


106 


SAUL, 


P  i 


Queen. 

It  was  wrong 
To  scoff  at  the  poor  wretches  in  their  ruin. 

Saul. 
Their  ruin  was  the  revel  of  our  men  ; 
Who  made  the  massacre  a  carnival, 
And  fleshed  their  souls  yet  deeper  than  their  swords. 
Pshaw !  the  broad  multitude  know  naught  of  judgment. 
With  them,  revenge  was  at  the  bottom  of  it ; 
Whilst  sensuality  rose  to  the  top  like  scum. 
Revenge  is  hunger  of  the  mind,  and  hunger 
Makes  all  things  cruel  ;  — yet  the  wolf  not  sports  with, 
But  rends  his  victim,  and  his  sharp  head  plunges 
At  once  into  its  bowels.     Oh,  't  was  foul 
Behavior  !  —  but  I  fear  that  most  of  men, 
If  they  were  hcensed  by  divine  decree, 
Would  change  to  demons,  and  for  aught  be  ready. 

•     *  OUEEN. 

Beware  lest  thou  blaspheme  Jehovah,  Saul. 
His  holy  will  depraves  not  those  who  work  it 

Saul. 

It  does  when  they  exceed  it.     The  dead  they  've  stoned, 

And  made  the  Holiest's  order  an  excuse 

To  glut  their  basest  passions.  —  But  I  '11  punish  : 

They  shall  sneak  in  at  Gibeah's  back  door  ; 

Pageant  there  shall  be  none  !     I  could  not  bear 

To  see  thee  smiling  —  and  with  thee  all  Gibeah  — 

On  half  those  men. 

Queen. 

I  see  that  they  are  flushed 
Even  yet,  and  look  as  lewd  as  savage. 


r  P 

I.    ;i 

ft ' 


SAUL. 


107 


Saul. 


Ay.. 


As  Amalek's  daughters,  even  i'  the  agony,  found  them. 

Babe-killers  are  a  third  of  them  by  nature  ; 

Nor  e'er  for  Age  felt  reverence  :  oh  !  —  but  I 

Ne'er  held  that  men  were  noble,  for,  in  truth, 

There  is  a  latent  treachery  in  us  all ;  — 

Ay,  and  mayhap  in  woman  ;  though  I  think 

That  in  your  inmost  essence  you  are  gentle, 

And  prize  "o  bravery  in  men  save  such 

As  hath  been  married  to  a  tender  spirit. 

That,  like  an  indwelling  angel,  causes  them 

To  grieve  even  while  they  punish.     Such  not  these. 

Look  at  the  gazing  fellows  who  are  nearest  us  : 

Blood-shotten  are  their  eyes  with  rage,  and,  where 

The  wine  has  not  the  cheek  incarnadined, 

The  tawny  jaundice  mantles  on  the  skin, 

And  speaks  of  yet-edged  malice.     I  am  sorry 

That  thou  hast  stolen  from  Gibeah  to  meet  us  ; 

For,  in  their  vain  and  ignorant  conceit. 

Thy  coming  here  may  seem  to  mean  glad  welcome. 

Queen. 
'T  was  love  for  you  that  did  impel  me  hither. 

Saul. 

I  know  it ;  but,  sweet  chuck,  return  at  once  : 
Go  back,  dear  wife,  and  wait  me  still  in  Gibeah. 


Queen. 

And  must  I  be  discharged  so  soon  ?  and  when 
You  're  moody  too,  —  for  I  can  see  you  're  troubled. 


io8 


SAUL. 


Saul. 

Not  much,  love,  now  :  so  let  us  separate  ; 

On  thee  attending,  I  could  not  compel 

This  force  to  march  'tween  discipline's  strait  borders. 

QUKEN. 

I  see.'t  was  foolish  to  forestall  your  coming, 
And  disallow  your  soldiers'  natural  frenzy 
To  ebb  yet  lower  down  the  bank  of  time 
Before  their  greeting  ;  but  I  '11  say  farewell : 
To-morrow  you  will  rest  in  Gibeah.  ^ 

Saul. 

I  hope  so,  darling  ;  and  by  that  time,  surely, 
These  men  will  don  their  old  and  lying  faces, 
And  from  their  mistresses  and  wives  conceal 
The  dark  truths  of  their  nature.     Now,  farewell. 
And  better  fare  for  love  that  brought  thee  hither, 

\ExU  Queen. 
'T  is  well  that  she  is  gone  !  for,  staying  here, 
She  might,  indeed,  see  trouble.     Even  now, 
I  have,  afflicting  me,  a  black  misgiving 
That  I  have  hurt  myself  in  sparing  Agag. 
Would  that  I  had  despatched  him  with  the  rest ! 
Nor  braved  rebuke  from  yen  approaching  Prophet, 
Who  comes  upon  me  nith  o'erwhelming  eyes. 
And  brows  that  seem  as  laden  down  with  doom. 

{Enter  Samuel.) 

Mayest  thou  be  blessed  of  the  Lord,  O  Samuel ! 
Lo,  his  command  given  by  thee  is  performed. 

Samuel. 

What  meanf  th,  then,  this  bleating  of  the  sheep 
And  lowing  of  the  oxen  that  I  hear  ? 


SAUL. 

Saul. 

The  people  have  brought  on  the  choicest  cattle 
And  sheep,  to  sacrifice  them  to  the  Lord ; 
All  else  destroyed  they. 

Samuel. 

Miserable  man, 
Listen,  and  I  will  tell  thee  what  the  Lord 
Said  unto  me  last  night. 

Saul. 
Say  on. 

Samuel. 

When  thou 

Wert  humble  and  yet  void  of  pride,  God  chose  thee 

To  be  his  chief  o'er  Israel ;  then  why 

Hast  thou  not  been  obedient  since  .''  and  when 

He  sent  thee  to  destroy  the  Amalekites,^ 

Why  hast  thou  not  obeyed  him,  but  allowed 

Thyself  to  make  exceptions,  and  take  spoil  ? 

Saul. 

I  have  obeyed  him  ;  I  have  executed 

The  Lord's  behest.     The  Amalekitish  King 

I  have  brought  captive  ;  and  have  all  his  subjects, 

Man,  woman,  youth,  and  babe,  put  to  the  sword. 

Their  cattle,  dead  or  dying,  strew  the  land  ; 

Except  a  few  which  should  have  been  destroyed, 

The  choicest,  which  the  people  brought  on  hither, 

As  sacrifice  unto  the  Lord  thy  God. 

Samuel. 

Hath  God  in  sacrifice  and  in  burnt-offerings 
As  great  delight  as  in  obedience  given 


109 


fl  ■> 


■  :. 

I;,'  •! 


V*     '^il      'f 


i      I 


;  I 


110 


SAUL. 


To  his  command  ?     Know  that  to  obey  is  better 
Than  sacrifice  ;  and  that  to  hearken  to  him, 
Is  more  acceptable  than  the  fat  of  rams 
Unto  him  offered  :  for  rebelHon 
Is  all  as  bad  as  is  the  sin  of  witchcraft ; 
And  stubbornness  is  as  injustice,  or 
Idolatry.     Hence,  since  thou  hast  again 
Rejected  God's  commandment,  so  he  thee 
Hath  finally  rejected  from  being  king. 

Saul  {aside). 

How  shall  I  answer  }     O  Ahinoam ! 
Well  that  thou  left'st  me  when  thou  didst !     It  is 
For  thy  sake  and  for  Jonathan's  I  '11  bend. 
Down,  heart ;  down  to  the  dust,  if  't  so  must  be. 
{Aloud.)  I  have  done  wrong  ;  I  have  not  perfectly 
Performed  my  errand  ;  for  I  have  deferred 
Unto  the  people,  granting  their  request 
To  save  some  cattle.     Pardon  me,  and  now 
Go  back  with  me,  that  I  may  worship  God. 

Samuel. 

I  will  not  go  with  thee  ;  for  thou  again 
Rejected  hast  God's  voice,  and  he  doth  thee 
Reject  from  longer  being  Israel's  king. 

Saul. 
Thou  shalt  not  leave  me  thus  ;  stay,  I  command  thee ! 

(Samuel  turns  to  go  away  ;  Saul  seizing  him  by  the  mantle^ 
which  rends  in  Saul's  grasp.') 

Samuel. 

Spirit  perverse,  and  ready  to  do  evil, 
-Thus  hath  God  rent  from  thee  this  day  the  kingdom, 


SAUL. 


Ill 


And  given  it  finally  unto  another, 

Better  than  thou.     Remember,  the  Strength  of  Israel 

Lies  not,  nor  will  repent ;  nor  is  he  man 

To  change  his  mind. 

Saul. 
I  do  confess  my  sin  I 

Samuel. 
That  comes  too  late  to  stay  thee  on  the  throne. 

Saul. 

Too  late  !     Is  there  no  pardon  in  the  world  ?  — 
Why,  I  myself  dispense  forgiveness,  even 
To  culprits  who  have  forfeited  their  lives. 
Is  not  thy  God  as  merciful  as  man  ? 

Samuel. 
He  mercy  shows  to  thousands  who  do  keep 
His  great  commandments. 

Saul. 

They  who  keep  them  need 
No  mercy.     Say,  what  have  I  done  that  calls 
For  this  huge  penalty,  now  twice  denounced  "i  — 
Omitted  what,  that  cannot  yet  be  done  ? 
He  has  not  said  that  which  thou  hast  declared. 
Thou  art  mine  enemy,  art  jealous  of  me, 
Wouldst  wish  to  see  me  trip  and  tumble  down. 
Prophet,  I  now  impeach  thee.     Why  didst  stay 
Away  from  Gilgal,  and,  when  I  supplied 
Thy  lack,  come  thither  and  ban  me  for  my  pains  ? 
And  wherefore  com'st  thou  now  in  this  proud  style, 
Requiting  me  for  toil  and  life  imperilled 
By  second  deposition .'  —  and  forsooth, 


"■^   'II 


II 


SAUL. 


Ijccause  some  sundry  sheep  and  calves  and  beeves 
Yet  snuff  the  air,  —  of  which  there  is  abundance,^ 
And  a  poor  realmless  king  still  lives  to  weep  ; 
Or  curse,  in  secret,  thee,  myself,  and  God,  — 
The  obvious  triad  who  (for  an  offence, 
Not  his,  but  his  forefathers')  have  conspired 
To  dash  him  and  his  idols.     Answer  these 
Sharp  accusations  ;  then  with  thine  own  soul 
Itself  made  pure  arraign  me. 


Samuel. 


God  arraigns  thee. 


Saul. 

Nay!  —  and  yet  take  the  cattle,  and  take  Agag 
And  kill  him  out  of  kindness.     I  know  thou  lovest 
Not  kings  ;  so  lovest  not  me,  although  I  am 
One  half  of  thine  own  ma'ung  :  — hence  it  is 
That  I  've  endured  thy  schooling ;  for  I  cannot 
Forget  the  early  days  of  our  acquaintance, 
Ere  thou  hadst  learned  to  chide  me. 


I"        ! 


Samuel. 


I  still  love  thee. 


Even  in  this  thy  last  and  deep  disaster. 

Saul. 

Is  this  sincerely  spoken  ?  —  if  it  be 

Give  me  some  proof:  my  anger  towards  thee  dies. 

Say  that  Jehovah  is  not  wroth. 


Samuel. 


How  can  I  ? 


For  he  hath  cast  thee  off! 


SAUL.  113 

Saul. 

But  not  forever :  — 
Such  cannot  be  for  aught  that  I  have  done, 
Or  aught  left  undone.  —  Even  if  he  has, 
Still  honor  me  before  my  people's  eyes  ^ 

By  going  with  me  now  to  worship  him. 

Samuel. 
Lead  on  ;  but  never  more  a  favor  ask  me. 

\Exetint^  and  enters,  soon,  a  Subaltern,  who  paces  to 
and  fro  ;  and  presently  a  confused  noise  arises. 

Subaltern  {stopping  suddenly.) 

What  means  that  hubbub,  loud,  and  yet  subdued  ?  — 
Here  cometh  one  can  scarce  contain  himself. 

{Enter  a  SoLDlER.) 
What  now  ?     Thou  look'st  surprised. 

Soldier. 

No  wonder,  when 
The  gentle  Samuel  has  executioner  turned, 
And  finisher  of  our  labor.     Agag  is 
No  more. 

Subaltern. 

Has  judgment,  then,  been  so  exact 
That  it  has  not  allowed  one  doit  of  mercy, 
Though  't  were  to  have  been  bestowed  upon  a  king  ? 
This  is  not  true  :  —  and  how  of  Samuel .?  —  pshaw  ! 
I  Agag  saw  but  now,  and  he  was  living. 

Soldier. 

He  lives  no  longer,  —  not  at  least  'mongst  men. 

Agag  is  now  a  ghost,  and  would  not  know 

The  carcass  that  three  minutes  since  contained  him. 


9fM 

m 

tf    J 


I  I-'' : 


114 


SAUL. 


So  felled  it  is,  so  lopped,  so  strewn  on  the  ground, 
The  bird,  his  soul,  now  would  not  know  the  tree 
That  it  for  forty  years  has  sat  and  sung  in. 
He'll  pipe  no  more. 

Subaltern. 
Did  Samuel  order  his  death? 

Soldier. 

He  summoned  the  idolater,  who  came 
Bareheaded,  and  yet  delicately,  forth  ; 
Approaching  him,  and,  with  forced  smile,  exclaiming, 
"  Surely  the  bitterness  of  death  is  passed  !  " 
But  Samuel  cried  aloud,  with  kindled  eyes, 
"  As  thy  sword  hath  made  woman  childless,  so 
Thy  mother  shall  be  childless  among  women," 
Then  hewed  him  into  pieces. 

Subaltern. 

Liar !  no. 

Soldier. 

Come  with  me,  and  I  '11  show  thee  him  divided 
Into  five  Agags,  —  ay,  and  more.     Let 's  reckon  : 
His  hands  are  off,  that  sought  to  save  his  head, 
Which  is  disparted  ;  and  his  arms  and  shoulders 
Are  carbonadoed,  minced  ;  and  gashed  his  loins. 
And  all  the  cunning  ways  and  means  of  life  — 

Subaltern. 

A  curse  upon  thee  1  hold.  —  Why  Saul  and  Samuel 
Even  now  to  worship  went.     I  '11  not  believe  thee. 

Soldier. 

What,  not  believe !     I  tell  thee  that  from  worship 
Samuel  arose  and  slew  him  ;  and  away 


SAUL.  115 

Is  gone,  each  posting  on  his  rapid  route ; 

To  (xibeah  Saul,  and  Samuel  back  to  Ramah, 

And  certainly  in  mutual  displeasure. 

Subaltern. 

With  this  division  'tween  the  Throne  and  Altar, 
Israel  can  never  prosper. 

Soldier. 

Wilt  see  Agag  ? 
Thou  'It  say  he  makes  no  handsomer  a  corpse 
Than  any  of  his  subjects. 

Subaltern. 

Go :  I  follow. 
\Exeiint^  and  re-enter  near.     Soldiers  looking  at  the  rt' 
mains  of  Agag.    A  n  altar  still  smoking  in  the  distance. 

Subaltern. 

O,  horrible !    This  deed  had  better  graced 
Saul's  blood-stained  hand. 

Soldier. 

Thou  saw'st  him  whilst  he  lived  ; 
Wouldst  know  him  now  that  he  is  dead  ? 

Subaltern. 

His  own 

Wives  would  not  know  him,  who  should  know  him  best. 

Poor  wretch,  but  this  sight  melts  me  ! 

Soldier. 

Pity  not ; 

He  would  have  dor  e  as  much  for  thee  and  me,  — 

Ay,  or  for  Saul  or  Samuel.     Listen  how 

The  ground,  after  the  soaking  draught  of  blood, 


I'll 


'ft     I 


mi  I II 


ii6 


S.iC/Z. 


Smacks  its  brown  lips.     It  seems  to  like  roy.il  wine 
Beyond  small  beer  outleaked  from  beggar's  veins. 

Subaltern. 

A  beggar  he ;  none  poorer  now.     Behold  1 
All  sceptreless  he  lies,  and  none  to  bury  him. 
Sceptre  1  he  has  no  hands  wherewith  to  wield  it. 

A  Spectator  Soldier. 

No  :  but  he  has  two  heads,  or  something  like  them  ; 
So,  were  he  living,  he  might  wear  two  crowns. 
His  face  is  cloven  like  a  pomegranate  : 
See  how  his  eyes  distend,  and  gape  his  jaws ! 

Subaltern. 

Ay,  stricken  with  terror  at  Samuel's  sword,  his  spirit 
Seems  to  have  leaped  out  both  at  doors  and  windows. 
'T  is  a  dread  dissolution. 

'     Soldier. 

Why,  all  perish, 
Even  kings }  for  all  meet  death  at  some  tim 

Subaltern. 

True, 
Some  crawling  to  it  over  eighty  years  ; 
And  some  cast  down  from  life's  bright  top  and  summit, 
Like  Agag,  into  darkness.     If  a  foe 
He  was,  let 's  not  insult  him,  but  remember, 
That  if  his  life  was  profligate  and  cruel, 
His  end  's  untimely  and  most  tragical. 
Gather  his  scattered  relics,  cover  them 
O'er  with  his  blood-dyed  robe,  and  let  it  be 
His  purple  pall. 


iii 


it, 


SAUL,  i,y 

A  Second  Spectator  Soldier. 
Here  is  a  regal  tooth. 

A  Third  Spectator  Soldier. 
Let 's  close  his  chine,  and  make  his  double  face  one. 

Subaltern. 

Jest  not,  to  lighten  your  ill-fav  r.'d  task. 
Spread  the  rcbe  over  him,  and  leave  that  form 
Veiled,  as  his  soul  is  hid  now  from  our  view, 
Encountering,  unseen,  death's  unknown  hazard. 
Quick  at  your  gory  labor  :  —  cover  him  : 
I  hear  the  recommencerent  of  the  march. 

[Exeunt,  having  finish,  i  gathering  the  remains  of  Agag^ 
and  enter  a  Demon. 

Demon. 

Seven  days  have  angels  of  the  bottomless  pit 
Been  driving  thither  Amalekitlsh  ghosts. 
Till  few  are  left  on  earth.     I  think  no  demon 
Has  taken  more  than  I  myself  have  done ; 
And  now  I  'II  drop  to  Acheron.  —  But  stay, 
What  have  we  here  ?    The  mangled  corse  of  Agag, 
The  cruel  king  of  the  Amalekites  ! 
'T  is  warm  as  yet.     Now  evermore  at  death 
The  spirit  lingers  near  the  mortal  clay  : 
.^  Where,  then,  the  soul  of  the  late  tyrant  ?    Ah, 
Scared  by  the  body's  hideous  spectacle, 
Yonder  it  trembling  stands,  and  onward  come 
Sailing  two  goblins  to  arrest  the  shade  ; 
And  now  between  them  swift  't  is  borne  away, 
And,  with  such  sombre  and  so  sure  convoy, 
Drops  low  and  lower  to  the  deep  abyss.  — 
I  '11  follow  them  :  weary  I  grow  of  this. 

\Exit,  and  enter  two  other  DEMONS. 


■■■ 


p 


ii8 


SAUL. 


'm 


First  Demon. 
Now  let  us  down  to  hell ;  we  Ve  seen  the  last. 

Second  Demon. 

Stay  ;  for  the  road  thereto  is  yet  encumbered 

With  the  descending  spectres  of  the  killed. 

'T  is  said  they  choke  hell's  gates,  and   stretch   from 

thence 
Out  like  a  tongue  upon  the  silent  gulf ; 
Wherein  our  spirits  —  like  terrestrial  ships 
That  are  detained  by  foul  winds  in  an  offing  — 
Linger  perforce,  and  feel  broad  gusts  of  sighs. 
That  swing  them  on  the  dark  and  billowless  waste, 
O'er  which  come  sounds  more  dismal  than  the  boom, 
At  midnight,  of  the  salt-flood's  foaming  surf,  — 
Even  dead  Amalek's  moan  and  lamentation. 

"  First  Demon. 

He 's  lost,  but  not  as  we.     I  've  neither  pity 

Nor  spite  concerning  him  ;  for  who  can  pity 

Others  in  that  which  his  own  self  endures 

In  greater  measure?    Amalek  is  strange 

To  his  vicissitude  ;  but  he  will  grow 

Inured  thereunto,  even  as  have  others 

Become  inured  to  theirs.     Rememberest  thou 

When,  with  those  vast,  inexorable  rains, 

Jehovah  drowned  the  people  of  this  world. 

How  long  they  lay  upon  the  lumeless  deep  ; 

How  long  they  drifted  through  hell 's  gates ;  how  roared 

Their  grief? 

S?:coND  Demon. 

I  do  ;  and  laughter  at  them  shook  us,  — 
But  they  have  been  revenged  upon  us  ;  though 
Full  many  a  mistress,  many  a  dalliance 


SA  UL. 

Withia  Gehenna's  undelightfui  walls, 

That  Godsend  gave  us,  and  on  us  bestowed 

Some  pleasure  of  change  ;  alas  !  with  pain  repaid  ; 

For  jealousy,  if  I  remember  well, 

Came  to  us  with  the  Antediluvians  ;  — 

Those  groundless  taxings  with  unfaithfulness. 

Those  unhymeneal  bickerings,  but  chiefly 

Those  ever-damning  doubts  that  scourge  so  many 

Worse  than  hell-flames. 

First  Demon. 

Say  rather,  here,  three  thousand  years  ago, 

'T  was  found  by  us  midst  the  sweet  girls  of  Cain, 

Granddaughters  of  first  Eve,  and  equal  to  her 

In  those  soul-sensuous  charms  which  she  employed 

On  Adam,  to  his  ruin,  long  before 

The  Deluge  (which  1  deem  that  they  deserved) 

Sent  the  whole  bevy  to  us.  —  But  why  trifle  1 

Say,  whereunto  shall  we  betrrke  ourselves, 

To  pass  the  hours,  until  we  are  compelled 

Again  to  drop  into  our  fiery  prison  }  — 


119 


Second  Demon. 

Look  who  therefrom  now  cometh  towards  us  sad,  — 
Peyona,  Malzah's  lover,     Thou  knowest  Malzah  : 
Him,  the  facetious  spirit,  who,  wich  mirth 
Infectious,  doth  at  times  provoke  half  hell 
To  snap  their  fingers  both  at  it  and  heaven. 
I  will  accost  her.     M;ilzah  's  lately  grown  — 
And  here's  the  fruit  of  that  forbidden  tree 
Which  we  first  tasted  on  this  carnal  world  — 
Groundlessly  jealous  of  her  ;  for  sure  never 
More  constant  creature  than  herself  e'er  fell 
From  light,  —  indeed,  from  thence  she  did  not  fall, 


If  » 


lU-ii 


120 


SA  VL. 


But  wandered  freely  to  our  gloomy  pit, 
After  her  lover,  whom  to  seek  was  ruin. 

{Enter  Peyona.  ) 
Peyona,  my  pale  pilgrim,  whence  art  thou  ? 

Peyona. 
Tophet.     Whence  thou  ? 

Second  Demon. 

The  land  of  Amalek. 

Peyona. 
Ah,  the  poor  realm  ! 

'T  is  said  that,  since  the  days  of  Jonathan, 
Who  conquered  this,  there  has  not  been  such  slaughter. 
You  know,  not  I,  the  cause  o'  the  carnage  ;  but 
These  mortals  are  continually  frantic. 
Or  with  desire,  or  changes  of  the  moon, 
Or  lust  of  power,  or  lapses  into  rage. 
At  their  own  wrongs,  or  those  their  fathers  left  them, 
To  school  them  into  malice. 

First  Demon. 

Even  so. 
This  hour,  from  Havilah  to  Shur  is  red 
As  Egypt  was,  when  we,  with  heaven's  angels 
(Beneath  the  forms  of  Moses  and  the  Priests) 
Contending  in  the  gamesome  hsts  of  magic, 
Changed  all  her  streams  and  lucid  pools  to  blood. 

Peyona. 
Ha,  ha  1  . 

Those- were  the  days  oi  frolic  !  Malzah  laughed 
For  a  whole  century  afterward.     He  would  titter 
While  in  his  sleep,  and,  kissing  and  caressing, 
Call  me  his  frog,  or  louse,  or  pretty  serpent. 


a<^iihMMfa>  1.1.1  ii  I 


■>».■>  a  l-.i«Hr<k-»»^V-   — ■^'  -t^"   --^t-nTi  \ 


SAUL,  •     121 

And  once  he  smote  me  such  a  blow,  that  I 

Still  bear  the  mark  on  't ;  for  he  dreamed  he  saw 

Me,  fascinated,  speeding  through  the  jaws 

Of  one  of  Aaron's  sacerdotal  hydras, 

At  which  he  aimed  the  blow  that  fell  on  me. 

Have  you  not  seen  him  lately  ?  for  I  seek  him  : 

'T  is  many  a  day  since  I  beheld  his  face. 

Second  Demon. 
Yonder  he  comes,  if  I  may  know  his  gait. 

Peyona. 

'T  is  he  indeed.     How  this  would  once  have  joyed  me  1 
But  now  I  almost  fear  to  look  upon  him. 
You  '11  stay  and  greet  my  mate  t 

First  Demon. 

Excuse  us,  we 
Are  on  the  eve  of  urgent  business  ; 
So  will  not  stay  to  greet  him,  lest  he  should, 
With  mystic  charm,  seduce  us  to  his  vein. 
And  lead  us,  bound,  to  fields  of  dissipation. 

{Exeunt  First  and  Second  Demons,  and  enter  Mal- 
ZAH,  stepping  to  the  measure  of  his  otvn  words. 

Malzah. 

Home  to  Gibeah  the  king  is  gone. 
With  God's  grace  off,  and  man's  dudgeon  on. 
O  yes,  he  is  gone  ;  yes,  home  he  is  gone, 
And  I  there  to  meet  him  will  surely  make  one. 
Ahinoam,  his  Queen,  will  wonder  and  pine ; 
His  servants  will  pity,  and  some  will  divine  ; 
And  I  will  all  hear  as  'midst  them  I  steer. 
And  take  from  my  hearing  my  strategy's  hne. 


122 


r  <  i., 


I    ii 


^         I: 


SAUL. 

Peyona. 


I  've  watched  thy  folly. 

Malzah. 

Ah,  one  embrace ! —  But  stay : 
Wliat  brings  thee  hither  ? 

{Enter  ZoE. ) 

Here  comes  a  Puritan. 
\Exeunt  Mai^.ah  and  Peyona,  hastily, 

ZOE. 

Hell's  ministers  avoid  my  path. 
As  though  I  moved  in  latent  wrath ; 
But  I,  on  melancholy  wing, 
Muse  on  my  own  late  minist'ring. 
'T  is  ended  now  ;  't  is  ended  now  ; 
And  I  unto  the  issue  bow. 
On  Saul  himself  be  all  the  blame. 
Saul  could  not  more  attention  claim : 
A  stronger  influence  from  me 
Would  have  destroyed  his  liberty. 
His  fault  was  found  in  his  own  heart : 
Faith  lacking,  all  his  works  fell  short. 
I  for  him  sigh,  —  why  should  not  I  ? 
I  loved  him  when  to  me  first  given  ; 
But  I  '11  forget  him  now,  and  fly 
Again  unto  my  seat  in  heaven. 

\_Exit  ZoE,  and  re-enter  MalzaH  and  PeyonA. 

Malzah. 

I  do  believe  thee  ;  —  nay,  I  know  thou  'rt  true. 
I  am  the  very  Ass  of  Acheron 
To  have  brayed  thus  in  thine  ear.     I  promise  thee 
That  I  will  snort  out  no  more  jealousy :  — 


» 1 


SAUL.  123 

Yet  when  I  doubt  thee,  perhaps  I  love  thee  mot.t. 
Come,  let  us  kiss  ere  parting.     {Kisses  her.) 

My  Peyona, 
The  scents  of  heaven  yet  hover  round  thy  lips, 
That  are  a  garden  of  well-watered  sweets  ; 
Which  I  must  leave  now  for  the  arid  desert 
Of  vexing  Saul. 

Peyona. 

I  know  thy  taste  for  mischief; 
And  all  love's  round,  from  this  to  summed  desire, 
Glads  thee  not  more  than  does  occasion  offered 
To  gratify  it.     But  what  thing  is  that  ? 

(Pointing  to  tJie  corpse  of  Agag.) 

Malzah. 

A  pie  ;  but  made,  sprite,  when  the  cook  was  angry. 

Look  on  it,  for  't  is  worthy  thine  inspection  : 

It  is  concocted  of  a  certain  king, 

Agag  by  name.     His  bloody,  stiffening  robe, 

Around  it  thrown,  makes  a  fine  incrustation. 

Upon  this  grand  updishing  of  his  kingdom, 

He  is  brought  in  at  the  last  as  the  dessert,  — 

And  I  opine  he  has  here  his  desert,  — 

And  is  served  up  in  a  most  royal  fashion. 

Peyona. 

O,  canst  thou  jest  at  such  a  hideous  sight  ? 
I  '11  go  no  nearer  to  it,  —  no,  not  I. 

Malzah. 

We  must  now  rip  ourselves  asunder.     Come, 

Bid  me  farewell  again  ;  and  I  '11  expire 

Till  quickened  i'  the  resunection  of  thy  countenance. 

Farewell,  my  squeamish,  ever-gentle  goblin. 

\Exit  Peyona. 


124 


SAUL. 


I  like  not  blood  myself,  and  such  dread  carving 

Makes  one  both  sick  and  savage  :  but  't  is  true 

(For  I  beheld  this  tragedy  performed) 

These  priests  delight  to  school  and  humble  kings. 

Ay,  ay,  dead  tyrant,  this  is  degradation  : 

The  flies  already  take  thee  for  a  dunghill. 

Faugh !  who  'd  stay  here  that  did  rejoice  in  nostrils  ! 

Now,  over  sweeter  fields  and  running  brooks 

I  '11  follow  Saul,  who  has  just  lost  his  reUsh  ' 

For  man-killing  ;  grown  surfeited  and  sick,  — 

As  well  he  may,  after  his  bloody  courses. 

I  '11  follow  him,  and  see  how  he  '11  take  bitters. 

\Exit. 


ACT  V. 


SCENE     I. 

space.     Confines  of  Heaven.      The  Angel  that  appeared  in  the 
fifth  scene,  Act  IV.  descending. 

Angel. 

Again,  from  near  the  throne  down  sent, 
To  earth  I  take  my  way  ; 
Commanded  by  the  Omnipotent, 
To  Samuel  thus  to  say  : 

"  How  long  wilt  thou  lament  for  Saul, 
Ejected  from  his  regal  height  ? 
Now  fill  thy  horn  with  oil,  and  go 
To  Jesse  the  Beth-lehemite  ; 
Fsr  I  have  to  myself  a  king 
Provided  from  amongst  his  sons." 

Thus  said  the  Lord,  and  whispering 
Arose  'mongst  the  angelic  throngs, 
And  mournful  looks,  as  I  took  wing. 
While  sank  to  silence  half  their  songs. 

For  sad  my  errand  is  for  Saul ; 
And  grief  shall  fill  his  soul  with  groans  ; 
He  who  no  more  on  Heaven  may  call, 
But  make  in  madness  angry  moans. 


"  III  ' 


1 

Ml 


l! 


126  SAUL, 

So  urge  I  on  a  downward  wing,  — 

I  who  am  of  the  chosen  seven, 

Whose  occupation  is  to  bring 

To  earth  the  high  behests  of  Heaven  :  — 

Again  to  Ramah  speed  my  flight, 
To  seek  before  the  Seer  to  lay 
The  words  of  Heaven  at  dead  of  night, 
And  leave  him  ere  the  dawn  of  day. 

\Disappears, 


SCENE   II. 

Ramah.     Timf,  morning.    A  room  in  Samuel's  dwelling. 

Enter  Samuel, 

Samuel. 

No  hope,  no  more  probation  now,  for  Saul  I 
I  must  depart ;  this  vision  was  divine  :  — 
Yet  Saul  will  kill  me  if  he  know  mine  errand. 
They  tell  me  that  he  rages,  and  in  chief 
'Gainst  me.     Show  me  what  I  shall  do,  O  Lord  I 

Voice  of  the  Lord. 

Fear  not  fierce  Saul ;  to  Beth-lehem  go, 

And  with  thee  take  a  heifer  fair : 

To  sacrifice  it  unto  me 

Say  is  the  end  that  brings  thee  there. 

Then,  consecrated,  to  the  feast 

Bid  Jesse  and  his  sons  to  go  ;  • 

And  from  amongst  them  him  anoint 

Whom  I  that  hour  shall  to  thee  show. 


'I  i 

hi ; 

[il: 


tVW«A*M 


mp 


SA  UL. 

Samuel. 
It  is  enough  :  now,  Saul,  I  fear  thee  not  1  — 
Though  never  canst  thou  be  by  me  forgot. 

Angel. 
Swiftly  let  me  now  return 
To  my  shining  seat  on  high ; 
Lo !  the  breaking  light  is  born, 
Lo  !  the  day-dawn  I  descry  ;  — 
Up  the  opening  track  of  morn 
Let  me  hke  the  lightning  fly  :  — 
Up  the  hollow  darkness  borne, 
Up  the  hollow  of  the  sky  ;  — 
Let  me,  who  for  heaven  yearn, 
Through  the  melting  shadows  hie ;  — 
Where  the  stars,  of  lustre  shorn, 
In  the  light  of  morning  die ;  — 
I  who  ever  starlike  burn, 
I  who  ever  heavenward  turn. 
Let  me  soon  to  heaven  draw  nigh  ;  — 
There,  with  wings  my  visage  shading, 
Midst  effulgence  never  fading. 


127 


lExit, 


"  Holy  1  holy  !  holy ! "  cry. 


\Disappears. 


SCENE   IIL 

Gibcah.    An  apartment  in  the  Palace.     Enter  SauLj  innsiug^ 
and  with  a  tnelancholy  air. 

Saul, 
If  I  rejected  be,  I  too  may  have 
Rejected  ;  for  I  feel  that  I  am  changed. 
Revulsion  cold,  and  hot  resentment,  fill  me. 
I  am  as  he,  who,  to  his  enemy 


I* 


i 


r  «i 


3  1        ' 


128 


i-^^z. 


Having  made  fair  offers,  spurned  with  proud  disdain, 

Pays  iiis  disdainer  with  malicious  scorn. 

Is  it  the  skies  I  scorn  ?     O  no;  for  who 

So  hardy  as  to  scorn  the  Omnipotent  ?  — 

Samuel  I  scorn,  for  he  unjust  is  towards  me  !  — 

Yea  Heaven  unjust  is  too.  —  O,  peace,  my  tongue. — 

And  yet  I  am  indubitably  changed  : 

My  heart  now  never  beats  up  heavenward. 

Once  was  I  as  a  bird  that  took  slight  soars  ; 

Now,  never  mounts  my  soul  above  the  ground. 

1  have  no  God-ward  movings  now  :  no  God 

Now,  from  his  genial  seat  of  light  remote, 

Sends  down  on  me  a  ray.     Yet  I  '11  endure  : 

Though  now  't  is  night,  't  will  break  again  in  day. 

[Exif. 


SCENE    IV. 

BetH-lehem.  a  spacious  apartment  with  preparations  as 
for  a  feast,  Samuel,  Elders,  Jesse,  and  others  who 
have  been  called. 

Samuel. 

Now  bid  thy  sons  come  here  that  I  may  see  them. 

(Jlsse  motions  to  one  ivho goes  out,  and  Eliab  enters.) 
Surely  the  Lord's  Anointed  is  before  him  ! 

Voice  of  an  Angel. 

Hesitate,  thou  man  of  God ; 
Tarry,  venerable  seer ; 
For  the  Lord's  Anointed  yet 
Is  not,  as  thou  deemest,  near. 
Rate  not  Eliab  by  thine  eye. 
Tall  of  stature,  stern  of  mien ; 


SAUL.  129 

Worth  by  outer  show  's  unseen,  — 
God  the  heart  sees  ;  pass  him  by. 

(AbiNADAB  enters.) 
Also  this  of  lordly  port ; 

(Shammah  enters.) 
Likewise  this  of  equal  sort ; 
(Se^ien  other  sons  of  Jesse  enter  consecutively,) 
And  the  seven  that,  in  vain, 
Enter  in  a  gallant  train. 

Samuel. 
Are  all  thy  children  here  ? 

Jesse. 

There  yet  is  one,  — 
The  youngest,  who  remains,  and  tends  the  sheep. 

Samuel. 
Send  for  him  :  we  will  not  eat  until  he  come. 
{A  young  man  goes  to  fetch  David.) 

Voice  of  an  Angel. 

Over  field  and  over  brook 
Runs  the  swift  and  wondering  hind  ; 
David,  with  his  pipe  and  crook, 
Feeding  of  his  flock,  to  find. 

To  a  cupped  and  covert  hollow' 
David  did  his  flock  late  follow  ;  — 
Hark,  how  holloweth  the  hind  I 

"  David !  David  ! "  he  is  calling  ; 
Faint  his  voice  and  fainter  falling,  — 
Fainter  on  the  wayworn  wind  : 

David,  deep  in  shadow  dimming, 

Charmed  with  sounds  of  heavenly  hymning, 

Unto  revery  resigned. 


1    ' 

hi 


n 


i} 


130  SAUL. 

Rapt  in  rcvcry,  —  rcvery  deeper 
Than  the  sleep  of  soundest  sleeper,  — 
Hears  he  not  the  hollowing  hind. 

Holla,  holla,  holla,  lioUa, 

"  David ! "  still  doth  "  David ! "  follow,  — 

Follow  on  the  wafting  wind  : 

Till,  from  re  very  awaking, 
He  his  flowery  seat  forsaking, 
Learns  the  errand  of  the  hind  : 

With  him  hastens,  whilst  't  is  told  him :  — 
Enters,  look,  a  man,  behold  him. 
After  God's  own  heart  and  mind. 
{Enter  David.) 

Voice  of  God. 

On  that  head  shall  sit  the  crown. 
Rise,  anoint  him,  for  't  is  he 
Who,  though  now  unprized,  unknown, 
Famous  shall  hereafter  be. 

Samuel. 
Come  hither,  son  ;  and  may  Jehovah  bless  thee  ! 

(/^ nointmg  David. ) 
As  I  upon  thy  head  now  pour  this  oil, 
So  may  the  Lord  on  thee  outpour  his  spirit. 

^laving  anointed  David.) 
Now  let  us  eat,  for  I  must  soon  be  gone. 

Jesse. 
Thou  wilt  not  tempt  the  night  ? 

Samuel. 

'T  is  always  day 

To  those  for  whom  Jehovah  lights  the  way. 
I  too  long  linger  from  the  shades  of  Ramah. 

( The  repast  being  finished,^  all  depart  except  David.  ) 


f.   ^ 


SAUL. 


131 


."^ 


^5' 


David. 

What  meaneih  this  ?  why  am  I  singled  out, 
The  youngest  born,  for  this  unusual  honor  ? 
Why  am  I  consecrated  ?  to  what  (  nd  ? 
I  'm  lost  in  wonder  ;  and  where'er  I  turn 
My  eyes  I  see  the  same.     Alas,  I  fear 
Eliab  *s  not  my  friend,  although  my  brother ; 
For  he  regards  me  with  vexed,  haughty  looks. 
My  sire  says  nothing  ;  and  the  elders  smile  ; 
While  Samuel  brake  not  silence  on  its  meaning. 
Fear  mingles  with  my  joy.     This  is  the  Lord  ; 
And  I  must  wait  till  he  shall  make  that  clear 
Which  is  left  dark  by  his  departed  seer. 

Voices  of  Angels  {chanting) 

•  Joy  !  't  is  done  ;  and  royal  grace 

Now  are  David's  and  his  race  ; 
Saul,  who  from  him  good  hath  driven, 
Up  to  evil  influence  given. 


\Exit, 


SCENE  V. 

The  neighborhood  of  Gibeah.     Time,  be/ore  daybreak, 
Zaph  and  Zepho. 

Zaph. 

Zepho,  our  spirits  come  not :  what 's  the  matter  ? 
Surely  they  cannot  have  been  intercepted ! 
I  know  that  heaven's  haughty  ministers 
Are  more  than  ever  found  on  the  alert. 
Be  watchful ;  for  I  apprehend  intrusion, 
Either  from  Gloriel  or  from  his  troop. 


Enter 


Hi 

mm 


132 


SAUL. 


Zepho. 

Nor  Gloricl,  nor  any  of  the  minions 

Who  with  him  wear  the  livery  of  heaven, 

And  who  have  lately  shown  such  zeal  to  thwart  us, 

Shall  steal  upon  your  session  whilst  I  'm  sentry. 

Zaph. 

Why  are  my  spirits  late  ? 

{A  cock  crmus  at  a  distance.) 

Hark ;  chanticleer 
Breaks  with  his  voice  the  bubble  of  the  night. 
Even  now  the  dawn  is  in  the  east  fermenting. 

(>£'«/^r  Zaph's  Demons //i7j-/'//j/.) 
Is  this  the  hour  that  you  were  summoned  for? 
Marshal  yourselves  about  me  ;  and  now,  Zepho, 
Around  about  us  wing  continually, 
And  warn  me  if  thou  hear'st  aught. 

•    .'   Zepho. 

I  will  fly 

So  swiftly  round  you,  that  I  '11  be  a  fence. 

Like  the  Divine,  in  every  part  at  once. 

\JExit  Zepho. 

Zaph. 

Laggards,  tell  me  of  your  cheer, 
Since  you  last  assembled  her . 
Zobah,  what  Last  thou  been  doing  ? 

ZOBAH. 

Marry,  I  have  been  a-wooing. 

Zaph. 

Fellow,  thou  wert  aye  a  jester ! 
Even  in  heaven  thou  didst  pester 


ILil. 


SAUL. 

Them  who  ruled  thee  :  now,  be  sober  ; 
Or  I  bind  thee  on  October's 
Raging  wings,  and  to  the  north 
Send  tliee  of  the  frozen  earth  : 
There  unto  thyself  to  gibber, 
In  the  pangs  of  cold  to  quiver ; 
Where  the  pinching  chmate  must 
Separate  thee  from  thy  lust. 

ZOBAH. 

Debarred  the  sun  ? 
None  labor  harder.  — 

Zaph. 

What  hast  thou  done  ? 

I  see  thou  toiledst  last  at  the  larder :  — 

Grossest  spirit,  that  can  steal 

Into  drugs  that  warp  the  will ; 

And  consent  to  dwell  in  wine 

Poured  down  throats  of  men  like  swine : 

Or,  provoking  rank  congestion. 

Squat  thee,  littled,  in  confection  : 

Smothered  thus,  or  drowned  in  cream, 

Strive  of  heaven's  ambrosia  dream. 

Fallen  spirit,  't  is  the  mind^ 

Stiff  and  stubborn,  njakes  our  kind. 

What  art  thou  ?     Cele^tiai  sow. 

Go,  and  let  the  Arctic  wird 

Through  and  through  th^r  purge  and  find. 

ZOBAH. 

Oh,  oh !  oh,  oh ! 

Shall  I  do  wrong,  and  then  deny  it? 
'T  is  i,/'ef  and  hell's  abstemious  die*; 
That  makes  me  thus  on  ear^^^h  run  i^ot. 


U3 


I  ^ 


:  ^ 


I 


:U  .-.J 


134 


Zaph. 

I  've  caught  thee,  varlet, 
Playing  the  harlot, 
Drawing  forth  maid's  spicy  breath : 
Like  the  cat  on  the  cradled  infant, 
On  them  thou  hast  sat,  a  death  ;  — 
Baleful,  to  their  breast  propinquant, 
Purring  in  thy  fulsome  zest ; 
Till  I,  coming  on  thee  instant, 
Struck  thee  thencefrom,  hateful  pest. 
Thou  wert  a  lecher  ere  the  flood, 
And  tall  Anak's  spiry  brood 
Point  towards  thee. 

ZOBAH. 
'T  is  calumny. 

Zaph. 
Begone ! 

A  goblin  of  ignoble  mind  !  — 

Were  all  like  him, 

Intent  to  please  a  passing  whim, 

Gigantic  had  become  mankind. 

Widewing,  what  hast  thou  been  doing  ? 

i  hope  some  lawful  mischief  brewing. 

Widewing. 

O'er  the  earth,  and  up  the  air, 
Passing  regions  cool  and  fair, 
I  have  voyaged  ;  beyond  the  bounds 
Of  our  customary  rounds. 
Even  soared  to  heaven's  gate, 
Even  on  heaven's  threshold  sate ; 
Sang  thereon  a  plaintive  ditty. 
Many  an  angel  moved  to  pity  ;  — 
Many  an  angel  whom  I  knew, 


[Exit  ZoBAH,  sullenly* 


SAUL. 

Moved  to  pity  ;  —  till  a  few 
Sudden  rose,  and  thence  in  ire 
Drove  me  with  empyreal  fire  ;  — 
Drove  me  down  the  starred  abyss, 
Lashed  with  lightnings  down  to  this  ;  — 
Stricken  thence  and  spiteful  spurned, 
All  the  way  I,  waxing,  burned  ;  — 
Burned  alike  with  fire  and  shame, 
Wrapped  in  wreaths  of  forky  flame, 
Co.""vet-like  I  hither  came. 

Zaph. 

Uaivtrse-exploring  spirit, 

Great  indeed  I  find  thy  merit !  — 

Thou  dos:  deserve  to  find  the  clew. 

Leads  back  to  heaven  hell's  valiant  crew. 

Now,  Sitstill,  thou  in  turn  declare 

Thy  diligence  on  earth,  in  air, 

What  hast  thou  done  ? 


135 


Sitstill. 

A  general  view 
I  Ve  takfcij  :.;    '.xi  hybrid  crew, 
Manki'      —  uiai  procreated  race, 
Whic  ^  h  ^  0  ■>  t\vixt  us  and  brutes  the  place ; 
An.'  have   o  tf-js  'onclusion  come, — 
We  might  as  well  abide  at  home  : 
Or,  from  earth's  peaks  and  mountains  high, 
Gaze  up  into  the  cheerful  sky ; 
For  dull  io  Acheron,  and  would  range 
Thence  many,  for  mere  love  of  change.  — 
Let 's  leave  man,  master  ;  let 's  exempt  him  : 
Wea'i  a,  vinp^  and  women,  they  can  tempt  him  : 
And  vvuren,  ':iey  can  tempt  themselves. 


m  1 


1  i^' . 


^, 


m 


>. 


'■ 


m 


!i 


;Hi' 


136  SAC/L. 

This  conduct  many  troubles  shelves, 
•        And  leaves  us  leisure  :  —  ne'er  expect 
Good,  where  sense  wars  with  intellect : 
With  men,  their  senses  are  but  holes 
Through  which  creep  sins  to  tempt  their  souls. 

Zaph. 

Thou  say'st  not  well.     Next,  Sardon  speak ; 
Quick,  the  morn  apace  doth  break. 
Say,  whence  art  thou  ? 

Sardon. 

I  comt  iium  Tophet; 
Thither  sent  by  Gloriel's  buffet ;  — 


How? 


Zaph. 

Sardon. 
Struck  down  whirling  into  hell. 


Zaph. 

So  dread  a  fall,  and  thou  here  well  1  — 
This  surely  is  a  guarantee 
We  in  immortal  mould  now  be : 
For  what  mere  mortal  wight  could  beep 
His  life,  cycloiding  down  the  steep  ? 
For  this,  I  '11  Gloriel  meet  some  day, 
And  call  him  to  account ;  —  but  stay, 
I  hear  the  air  commence  to  sing  :  — 
It  does,  but  not  from  Zepho's  wing. 

Zepho  {without). 
Who  there  wingeth  ?    Speak  !  what,  ho  ! 
Answer,  art  thou  friend  or  foe?  — 
Who  there  cometh  rudely  dumb 


SAUL. 

Onward  with  a  murmuring  hum? 
Give  the  word,  or  ere  I  roll 
Vengeful  volley  through  thy  soul.  — 
Heardst  thou  not  my  voice  afar  ? 
Stay,  my  fellow-fallen  star. 

Malzah  {without). 
Who  art  thou  would st  Malzah  bar? 


137 


{Enters.) 


Zaph. 

Welcome,  Malzah  ;  welcome,  sprite  ; 

Welcomer  than  longer  night 

Just  now  would  be  !     What  hast  for  me  ? 

Malzah. 

Tidings  of  the  royal  Saul, 
King  of  Israel. 

Zaph. 
Shall  he  fall  ? 

Malzah. 

I  deem  he  will,  for  much  he  dares. 
Twice  he  has  tripped,  half  unawares  j  — 
Twice,  in  spite  of  Zoe's  cares ; 
She  who  late  did  him  defend  : 
Zoe's  guardianship  doth  end. 
If  thou  wilt,  I  '11  at  him  venture. 

Zaph. 

Go,  brave  spirit,  strive  him  enter. 

[Exit  Malzail 
It  grows  too  light :  — lo  !  withering  are 
Both  Jupiter  and  the  morning  star : 
A  nd,  see  !  Aurora  peeping  there 


138  SAUL. 

On  the  eastern  eaves,  —  of  her  beware  ; 
For  that  her  pale,  untinted  ray 
May  light  our  enemies  this  way. 
So,  with  low  voice,  and  accents  brief, 
Tell  me,  conjointly  and  in  chief. 
What  ye  have  suffered,  or  what  done 
To  spread  the  power  of  Acheron. 
Me  answer  all  ; 
And  let  your  quick  words  muffled  fall. 

Al,.L. 

Master,  master,  some  disaster 
Hath  befallen  us,  but  mucn  more 
Hath  success  ;  and  mortals  sore 
We  have  troubled,  havinr^  doubled 
Evil,  latent  in  their  core. 

Zaph. 

This  is  well ;  't  will  gladden  hell. 
Pass  away  and  work  it  more. 

\The  Demons  vanish, 
Zepho,  hither : 

{Enter  Z^vwo.) 

The  spirits  are  gone,  and  for  the  ether 
I  am  ready. 

Zepho. 

On  my  shoulders  take  thy  seat. 

(Zaph  vaults  upon  Zepho's  shoulders.'^ 

Sir,  be  steady  ! 

Whither  shall  I  bear  thee  fleet  ? 

Zaph. 

I  have  business,  if  I  choose, 
Beckons  me  to  Tartarus  ; 


SAUL.  129 

But  I  will  not :  —  to  the  moon 
Let  me  now  be  carried  soon. 

Zepho. 

When  last  there  thou  soon  grew'st  weary, 
'T  was  so  full  of  valleys  dreary ; 
Nor  thereon  a  rood  of  sea 
Wherein  thou  mightest  mirror  thee. 
Let 's  to  Limbo. 

Zaph. 

Then  to  Limbo  :  in  a  trice, 
Lay  me  in  th'  Fool's  Paradise. 

{^Exeunt,  and  enter  a  Hebrew,  hesitatingly^ 

Hebrew. 
'T  is  said 

That,  at  the  dayspring,  dark  and  evil  spirits 
Break  up  their  nightly  meetings,  where  they  dance 
To  parodies  of  strains  they  learned  in  heaven. 
But  now  the  air  is  purged  from  evil  angels, 
Which  is  at  dusk  delivered  unto  them. 
Ail  night  the  air 's  their  feoff  and  foul  domain  j 
But  at  the  dawn  they  flee,  and  holy  angels, 
Opening  the  gates  o'  the  East,  as  now  they're  doing, 
Guard  the  awakening  world.    Yet  then,  't  is  said, 
Apollyon's  self,  or  some  one  of  his  creatures, 
Like  a  shy  reveller  's  seen  stealing  homewards  ; 
Now  in  the  likeness  of  a  rook,  and  now 
Low  scudding  o'er  the  twilit  common,  as 
A  gray  and  silent  owlet ;  and  at  times. 
In  the  disguise  of  a  grim  footpad  's  met, 
Hastening  from  out  of  yon  dark  Gibeah  :  — 
Let  me  now  haste,  for,  to  my  startled  sense. 
There  seemed  the  powers  of  darkness  hastening  hence. 

{Exit, 


140 


SAUL. 


!      ,!   ' 


I  ^ 


SCENE   VI. 

Gibeah.     Interior  of  Sah^Js  palace. 

Malzah  {footing  it  to  the  measure  of  his  own  words). 

God 's  permitted  me, 

He  's  admitted  me 

Into  King  Saul's  heart ; 

Wherein  shall  work  strange  wickedness, 

Ere  I  from  it  depart. 

Hory,  gory,  already  Saul's  story 
Hath  a  tragical  chime  ; 
Hory,  gory,  how  Saul's  glory 
'S  perishing  in  its  prime  1 
Ha,  ha,  ha  !  it  shall  be  my  aim 
To  drag  him  into  crime. 

I  've  him  visited, 

Improvisitcd 

Him  with  his  first  rage  ; 

And  from  his  groans  and  threats  I  do 

Some  merriment  presage. 

Himble,  nimble  !  never  so  nimble 

Since  fell  I  from  on  high  ; 

And  whilst  1  'm  out,  I  '11  take  a  route 

And  ramble  up  the  sky. 

Ha,  ha !  ha,  ha  !  ere  this,  on  earth, 

I  've  seen  a  dancing  bear  ; 

But  naught,  in  pure,  exalted  mirth, 

That  could  with  me  compare. 

I  'm  happy,  very  ;  I  'm  growing  merry  ; 

I  'm  in  a  mood  most  rare  ;  — 


•ds). 


SAUL.  141 

Shall  I  the  empyrean  pierce  to  see 
If  heaven  still  hangeth  there  ? 

Yes,  were  it  not  the  roarer  of  all  jests, 
To  up  and  peep  at  the  outside  of  heaven  ? 
Beyond  all  questioning,  it  would  be  so  : 
Therefore  I  '11  treat  Saul  with  becoming  leisure, 
For  business  still  should  alternate  with  pleasure. 

{Exit  gayly. 


SCENE   VII. 

Space.     An  angel,  by  name  Zelehtha,  descending ;  and  the 
angel  lately  messenger  to  SAMUEL,  ascending. 

Messenger  Angel. 
Whither  art  thou  descending,  sweet  Zelehtha  ? 

Zelehtha. 

To  earth,  thereon  to  seek  a  certain  spirit. 

Who  has  been  trespassing  on  heaven's  light ; 

And  whom  we  deem  to  be  —  like  to  that  other, 

Who  lately  was  cast  howling  from  heaven's  threshold, — 

One  of  the  troop  of  the  notorious  Zaph. 

Messenger  Angel. 
Hath  he  a  roguish  look  ? 

Zelehtha. 
He  hath. 

Messenger  Angel. 

Then  I, 
Even  now,  as  I  was  leaving  earth,  have  met  him, 
Downwards  towards  Lebanon  flying.     Steer  thou  by 

Yon  orient  cloud.     Farewell. 

f  Disappears^  as,  eiiditig. 


m 


I  i 


142 


SAUL. 


Zklkhtha. 

'T  is  Nardiel, 
The  ever-journeying  angel  of  the  Lord. 
What  an  aurorial  hue  and  morning  tinge, 
The  constant-fanning  ether  gives  his  form  I 
I  did  not  deem,  before,  that  he  had  known  me  : 
'T  is  well  1  met  him,  for  he  '11  save  me  search 
For  that  malevolent,  aspiring  fiend, 
Whom  I  am  seeking  for.     Yonder  he  is  ; 
And  must  be  in  my  thrlildom  until  Heaven 
Release  both  him  and  me  from  Saul,  and  I  '11 
Deal  rudely  with  him  at  the  first,  for  hell 
Has  lately  grown  defiant  and  refractory. 

[Disappears,  descending  between  the  clorids. 


SCENE   VIII. 

Interior  of  Saul's  palace  at  Gibeah.      Mai.zah,   hurled  in 
from  above,  and  lying  prostrate. 

Malzah. 

Oh,  hurt,  unutterably  hurt !  —  dashed,  dashed 

To  pieces  !  —  oh  !  I  am  cut  up,  disjointed  ; 

There 's  nothing  whole  within  me,  nothing  straight ; 

My  very  thoughts  and  essence  are  in  spirals. 

Who,  after  this,  will  rashly  go  a-soaring  ? 

And  yet  I  half  forgive  the  hurricane-sender, 

When  I  consider  that  she  has  but  swept  me 

WHiither  I  meant  to  come.     She  might  have  pitched  me 

To  Tophet,  'midst  the  laughter  of  the  fiends. 

Oh,  oil,  these  throes !  — but  I  will  be  revenged. 

I  never  felt  before  such  ghastly  torment. 

I  'vc  all  the  arrows  of  the  frosty  wind 


SAUL, 


M3 


Sticking  within  me  ;  and  the  forest  boughs 

Ha  e  sliced  and  torn  me.     Do  not  let  me  laugh  : 

I  cannot  bear  to  laugh  ;  —  oh,  oh,  that  shake  ! 

'T  is  hard  a  wretch  cannot  grin  at  his  own  disaster, 

For  I  could  crack  day's  tympanum  with  laughter. 

I  Ve  got  a  twist,  albeit  about  the  reins. 

One  which  will  hold  me,  perhaps,  a  thousand  years. 

Bcshrew  the  dazzling  one,  and  her  stout  gust ! 

May  she  fade  from  this  very  hour,  when  she  forgot 

The  gentleness  that  most  adorn»  her  sex. 

Nay,  nay  ;  the  very  strumpets  of  the  Hebrews, 

The  dirty  commoners  who  walk  the  streets 

Of  Gibeah,  or  prowl  i'  the  environs, 

Contaminated  and  contaminating, 

Do  yet  retain  compassion.     O,  but  this 

Is  dreadful,  far  beyond  aught  in  our  annals  : 

Since  the  great  rough-and-tumble  down  the  skies. 

When  sex  and  friendship  were  alike  forgotten 

Throughout   heaven's   host,   there   has    been    nothing 

like  it. 
But  I  will  be  revenged,  even  yet,  for  this  ; 
I  '11  turn  it  into  verses,  yet,  which  shall 
Be  sung,  or  howled,  at  the  heels  of  heaven's  bright  fops, 
Till  they,  for  very  shame,  shall  shun  the  earth. 
And  leave  it  echoing  to  us  in  our  mirth. 
'T  is  the  most  scandalous  assault  ever  known  ; 
Most  unprovoked  :  forsooth,  because  (for  what 
Is't  more?)  —  because,  forsooth,  I  yesterday 
Flew  up  towards  heaven,  down  pops  me  this  virago  ; 
And  with  no  warning,  save  her  coming's  brightness, 
(Which  1  will  dim  when  I  next  on  her  come,) 
Even  as  I  whistling  sat  upon  a  bank, 
Dastarctly  hurls  a  whirlwind  at  my  flank. 
May  the  rigidity  that  haunts  the  age 


I  • 

m 


m 

'  ;  1  ' 

ill 

If: 

•ki 

f 

1 

iii|.':iii. 

"  '!' 

s  I  ^  ■ 


144 


SA  UL. 


Of  mortals  hamper  her  aerial  sinews  ! 

Oh,  oh  !  my  curses  to  myself  return  : 

1  'm  stiff  already,  and  shall  grow  yet  stiffen 

Oh,  oh  !  but  now  1  ache.     A  thunderbolt 

Would  not  have  so  disabled  me.     Fie  !  fie  ! 

There  is  no  love  instinctive  'tvvixt  heaven's  sexes ; 

'T  is  true  she  is  a  saint,  and  I  'm  a  sinner  — 

But  what  of  that  ?  do  we  not  feel  in  common  ? 

No,  they  feel  not  for  pain  who  'vc  known  but  pleasure ; 

The  cruel  Quean  !  curse  her,  I  would  not  kiss  her 

Unless  my  lips  were  snakes  to  sting  and  hiss  her ; 

May  she  grow  bleared  for  this,  like  antique  mortals  I 

May  rottc   7jzzz  and  decay  yet  eat  her  up  ! 

May  she  be  annihilated,  who  has  half 

Annihilated  me  !  —  But,  soft ;  methinks 

I  feel  the  antjuish  of  my  frame  decreasing  ; 

My  strength  returns  ;  1  feel  my  joints  rcknitting, 

Though  't  will  be  years  before  1  'm  lithe  and  sound, 

And  my  bi-:;  injury  cannot  be  removed 

Except  by  her  o'erthrowal.  —  Never  mind  ; 

Each  in  his  term,  each  in  his  time  ;  and  I 

Can  wait  ;  'tis  a  long  lapse,  eternity. 

Let  me  arise  and  straight  redeem  the  time.  — 

This  is  the  time,  the  time ;  for,  as  1  think, 

'T  is  the  full  moon,  the  most  auspicious  season 

For  operating  on  the  human  reason. 

I  '11  go  seek  Saul,  and  vex  him  while  I  'm  savage. 

\Exit^  a7td,  after  a  while,  re-enter, 
I  cannot  do  it ! 

Nay,  nay  ;  I  '11  brave  Zaph's  uttermost  displeasure. 

What  hath  Saul  done  to  me  that  I  should  plague  him  ? 

It  goes  against  my  heart  and  conscience  thus 

To  rack  his  body  and  deprave  his  mind. 

Oh,  how  he  groans,  and  sighs,  and  swears,  and  reasons  ! 


I 


] 


SAUL, 


MS 


f 


Nay,  by  the  pith  of  goodness  yet  left  in  me, 
It  me  untiends  to  sec  and  hsten  to  him. 
Give  me  a  ground  of  quarrel  with  him  ;  let 
Me  know  that  he  habitually  derides  us, 
Or  that  he  charges  us  with  the  corruption 
ji  his  own  heart,  as  many  do  with  theirs. 
And  I  will  trouble  him  to  Zaph's  desire. 
Or  pit  me  against  a  standing  enemy, 
An  angel ;  bid  mc  to  insult  the  Dreadest, 
And  I  will  do  it :  but  for  this  poor  king, 
I  have  no  provocation  to  sustain  me 
I'  the  process  of  his  injuring.     Would  that  Heaven 
Might  hither  send  in  force  its  champions, 
And  drive  me  from  him. 

Ah,  again  1     Why  hast 
Thou  followed  me  hither  ?     Comest  thou  once  more 
Vith  cunningest  concealment  of  thy  blast .'' 
^r  deernst  that  I  will  not  oppose  a  fair  one  .'* 
Hence,  or  it  shall  be  said  that  we  have  striven 
In  wrath,  who  should  have  graced  a  softer  tale ; 
Hence,  or  I  '11  drive  thee  instant  up  to  heaven, 
Or  drag  thee  downwards  to  the  pit  of  bale. 

0  thou  empyreal  minion  !  but  there  was 

A  time  when  thou  couldst  not  have  thus  compelled  me. 

1  have  no  power  except  to  wish  thee  evil. 
May  all  the  essence  from  thy  form  distil, 
And  waste  thee  into  blank  oblivion  ! 

Zelehtha. 
Thou  unassiduous  and  errant  spirit, 
Go  and  plague  Saul. 

Malzah. 

Not  at  thy  bidding.     No  ! 

7  J 


146 


SAUL. 


Zelehtha. 

To  him,  and  leave  him  not  until  the  hour 
When  thou  hast  done  thy  work. 

Malzah  {aside). 

I  must  obey  ;  I  know  I  must.     Curse  her!  — 
Peace ;  I  beUeve  she  knows  my  inmost  thoughts. 

(Aloud.) 

How  long  wilt  thou  enthrall  me  ?     I  '11  not  obey  thee ; 
I  am  Zaph's  minister,  not  thine.     I  am 
The  serf  of  Lucifer ;  and  I  will  pay, 
For  I  do  owe,  no  service  to  Jehovah.  — 
O,  look  not  on  me ;  I  will  go  vex  Saul. 

[Exity  followed  by  Zelehtha. 


SCENE    IX. 


The  same. 


Saul  {now  possessed  by  Malzah),  rushing  in  wildly. 

What  ails  me  1  what  impels  me  on,  until 

The  big  drops  fall  from  off  my  brow  ?    Whence  comes 

This  strange  affliction  }  —  Oh,  to  be  thus  driven 

About !  —  I  will  stand  still :  now  move  me  aught 

That  can.     Ah,  shake  me,  thing  ;  shake  me  again 

Like  an  old  thorn  i'  the  blast !    'T  is  leaving  me  ; 

Oh  that  it  were  forever !     Oh,  how  long 

Shall  this  fierce  malady  continue,  these 

Dread  visitations  ?    See,  't  is  here  again ! 

What 's  here  again  ?    Or  who  ?    Here 's  none  save  I ;  — 

And  yet  there  's  some  one  here.     'T  is  here,  't  is  here, 

Within  my  brain  ;  —  no,  it  is  in  my  heart,  — 


■ 


-  » 


HA. 


///. 


nes 


SA  UL. 

Within  my  soul ;  where  rise  again  black  thoughts 
And  horrible  conceptions,  that  from  hell 
Might  have  come  up.     All  blasphemies  my  ears 
Ever  heard  ;  my  horridest  ideas  in  dreams  ; 
And  impious  conceits,  that  even  a  fiend 
Methinks  could  scarcely  muster,  swarm  within 
Mc,  rank  and  black  as  summer  flies  on  ordure. 
Oh,  what  a  den  this  moment  is  my  breast ! 
How  cold  I  feel,  how  cruel  and  invidious. 
Now  let  no  child  of  mine  approach  me  ;  neither 
Do  thou  come  near  to  me,  Ahinoam, 
Their  mother  and  the  wife  I  dearly  love  ; 
For  now  the  universe  appears  one  field 
On  which  to  spend  my  rancor.     Oh,  disperse, 
Fit,  nor  return  with  thy  o'erwhelming  shadows ! 
Oh,  that  it  would  begone  and  leave  me  in 
My  sorrow  !     Surely  't  is  enough  to  live 
In  lone  despair.     To  reign  is  care  enough, 
Even  in  rude  health  ;  but  to  be  harassed  thus 
By  an  unnamed  affliction  ;  —  and  why  harassed  ? 
Oh,  why  am  I  thus  harassed !     I  have  heard 
Of  wretches  raging  under  sharp  remorse  ; 
Of  cruel  monarchs,  in  their  latter  days, 
Falling  a  prey  to  an  accusing  conscience  ; 
But  why  should  I,  whose  faults  smite  but  myself, 
Be  thus  tormented  ? 


M7 


(Enter  the  Queen.) 

Queen. 

O,  be  soothed,  my  Saul ; 
My  husband,  O  my  king,  be  calmed. 


Am  I  not  calm  ? 


Saul. 


148 


SAUL. 


'  i? 


{ 


it 

:•  nij!-'',:;- 
I  ■: 


Queen. 

You  were  not  lately :  far  off  I  heard  you  ;  yea, 
Your  servan*^    must  have  heard  you. 

Saul. 

Let  them  hear  me, 

Since  God  will  hear  me  not.     I  tell  thee,  wife, 

I  '11  on  him  call  no  more,  nor  sacrifice. 


O,  speak  not  thus  ! 


Queen. 

Saul. 
I  will  thus  speak. 


Queen  {weeping). 


Alas, 


What  shall  I  do  I 

Saul. 

Ay,  what  shall  I  do  too  I 
I  have  no  tears  to  shed  as  woman  hath  : 
My  grief  must  burn  within  me,  or  o'erflow 
In  tragic  deeds,  or  those  foul  blasphemies 
V/hich,  from  my  soul's  ooze,  are  uplifted  by 
My  horrid  agitation.     Weep  ?     No,  no. 
And  yet  I  have  wept  too,  but  secretly. 
Ay,  ay,  convulse  me  once  again,  strange  forces. 
Whate'er  thou  art  that  rends  me,  I  defy  thee ! 
Ah  me !  to  be  thus  clutched  !    Ahinoam  1 
Help,  help  ;  pray  for  me,  Ahinoam. 

Queen. 

O  Heaven, 

Gieat  Heaven,  help  a  helpless  wife  ;  O  hear  her : 

Hear  me,  Jehovah  ;  hear  me  for  my  husband ! 

O  Thou  that  canst  control  the  furious  storm, 

Rescue  great  Israel  from  his  gusty  pangs  ; 


il 


SAUL. 

Cure  his  distemper,  lighten  his  sad  heart ; 
Assuage,  O  God,  assuage  his  torment,  or 
Let  me  endure  it  and  to  him  give  case. 


149 


m. 


Saul. 

0  wife,  it  is  not  these  corporeal  pains  — 

Though  they  are  past  description  —  that  unman  me  ; 
But  't  is  the  horrid  o'erthrovv  of  my  mind, 
My  will's  harsh  subjugation  bows  me  down. 

1  know  the  strength  of  man  :  I  know  a  spasm 
Can  paralyze  it ;  I  know  his  cogitation 

May  fail  at  an  impertinent  idea  : 

But  to  have  the  soul  swallowed  up  of  its  own  self, 

Like  ocean  bv  its  own  devouring  sands. 

Or  the  clear  sun  high  in  the  firmament, 

Thence  downwards  sucked  and  quenched  in  a  volcano,  — 

O,  no  stout-hearted  courage  can  brave  that ! 

I  would  that  I  could  guide  my  thoughts !  but  no  ; 

The  king's  most  lawless  subject  is  himself. 

His  thoughts  of  late  have  strangely  scorned  his  rule. 

They  are  as  shifting  winds  that  scorn  the  sun : 

Ay,  fickler  are  they  than  the  April  hours  : 

Some  fair  enough,  some  sorrowful,  and  some 

I  know  not  what  they  're  like,  nor  whence  they  come ; 

Inconsequential,  so  like  imps  of  hell. 

That  I  would  not  be  their  progenitor 

For  half  my  crown.     No,  no,  I  loathe 

Such  inspirations,  in  me  but  not  of  me ; 

Things  that  seem  to  me  on  the  hot  winds  blown 

Of  some  infernal  desert ;  scorpions,  dragons  ; 

Inbreathings,  no  acknowledged  brood  of  mine, 

By  thought  on  thought  begotten.  —  Dry  thy  tears  ; 

Now  ended  is  that  fearful  paroxysm. 


T50 


SAUL. 


Queen. 
Would  that  you  had  some  cure ! 

Saul, 

Would  that  I  had  ! 

But  let  us  hence  ;  I  am  no  longer  mad. 

\jExeunt, 


SCENE  X. 
An  apartment  in  the  palace.     The  Queen  and  a  Physician. 

Physician. 

His  Majesty  seems  nigh  in  perfect  health  ; 
For,  save  when  he  is  suffering  in  the  fit 
(When  I  have  marked  his  pulse  most  riotous), 
His  frame  displays  no  symptom  of  disease. 

Queen. 
No  ?     Looks  his  eye  as  clear  and  bright  as  ever, 
As  healthful  his  complexion  ?     Is  his  voice 
Strong,  nor  ever  rumbles  hollowly  in  his  breast, 
Like  spirit  speaking  from  a  sepulchre  .'* 
Does  he  ne'er  seem  to  sigh  without  occasion  t 
I  hear  him  groan  throughout  the  livelong  night ; 
And  he  informs  me  that  he  's  vexed  with  dreams, 
Wherein  a  form  seems  ever  beckoning  him 
To  rise  and  follow  it  to  violent  deeds  ; 
Or,  in  his  otherwise  sound  slumber,  something 
Beats  at  the  doors  and  windows  of  his  senses. 
Demanding  entrance.     Tell  me  what  these  mean. 

Physician. 

Whate'er  their  meaning,  they  're  of  one  complexion 
With  his  day's  paroxysms.     This  much  I  know. 


SAUL. 


151 


(Enter  Saul,  unobserved. ) 

The  King  hath  certainly  a  mania, 
An  intermittent  mania,  but  of  such 
Unusual  kind,  that  I  divine  not  yet 
Its  hidden  nature,  and  hence  hesitate 
To  treat  him  for  it 

Saul. 

Look  deeper  than  the  skin  ; 
Then  find  me  'mongst  thy  compounds  or  thy  simples 
An  anodyne  for  undeserved  distress. 
Doctor,  I  have  a  stubborn  melancholy  ; 
Move  it,  and  I  will  make  thee  king  of  physic. 

Physician. 

Your  Majesty  bids  me  exercise  an  art 

That  I  profess  not :  but  as  water-drops 

Slowly  remove  whate'er  they  fall  upon, 

So  may  the  cadent  moments  of  your  life 

Gently  remove  your  trouble.     Time  is  the  skilfullest 

Physician  and  tenderest  nurse. 


Saul. 


But  memory 


Is  time's  defier. 


Physician. 

To  know  is  not  to  suffer 
Always  ;  for  wrongs,  like  men,  grow  weak  when  old. 
But  I  'm  too  bold,  your  Majesty. 

Saul. 

We  've  heard 

That,  toward  the  west,  a  people  live  believing 

There  is  a  river  that  can  wash  the  past 

From  out  the  memory. 


m 


4<-  — ? 


^52 


SAUL. 


Physician. 

I  've  travelled  'mongst  them : 
But  they  believe  't  is  only  after  death 
That  those  dark  waters  can  avail  the  spirit ; 
Which,  losing  the  remembrance  of  past  evil, 
Resigns  therewith  the  memory  of  past  good. 

Saul. 

I  ask  not  such  oblivion !     But  hast  nothing 
That  can  avail  a  mortal  whilst  he  lives  ? 
What  are  the  dead  to  thee  ! 

Physician.    • 

Your  Majesty, 
Herein  I  cannot  help  you  :  —  I  have  no  opiate 
That  can  assuage  the  anguish  of  the  spirit  ; 
Nor  subtle,  fine  astringent  is  there  known 
Can  bind  the  wanderings  of  a  lawless  fancy  ; 
No  soft,  insinuating  balsam  that 
Can  through  the  body  reach  the  sickly  soul. 

Saul. 
Hast  naught,  then,  in  thy  dispensatory  ? 

Physician. 
I  've  sedatives,  narcotics,  tonics  too  — 

Saul. 
Give  me  a  tonic  for  the  heart. 

Physician. 

The  King 
Is  strong  of  heart,  or  he  had  not  delivered 
Us  from  our  enemies  as  he  hath  done. 


SACJ^L.  153 

Saul. 

0  Prince  of  flatterers,  but  Beggar  of  doctors, 
How  poor  thou  art  to  him  who  truly  needs  ! 
The  mind,  the  mind  's  the  only  worthy  patient. 
Were  I  one  of  thy  craft,  ere  this  I  'd  have 
Anatomized  a  Spirit ;  I  'd  have  treated 
Soul-wounds  of  my  own  making  ;  and,  especially, 

1  would  have  sought  out  sundry  wasted  wretches. 
And  striven  to  cauteiize  to  satisfaction 

The  gangrenes  of  their  past.  —  Ye  are  impostors  ; 
All  said,  ye  are  impostors  ;  fleas.  —  Skin-deep 
Is  deep  with  you  :  you  only  prick  the  flesh, 
When  you  should  probe  the  overwhelmed  heart. 
And  lance  the  horny  wounds  of  old  despair. 
Away  ;  Death  is  worth  all  the  doctors. 

Physician  {aside). 

I  '11  speak  the  truth  to  him  whate'er  the  result. 
{Aloud.)  My  liege,  forgive  me,  for  you  have  encouraged 
Me,  by  your  gracious  freedom,  to  be  bold  : 
You  have  an  evil  spirit  from  the  Lord. 

Saul. 

Ay,  I  am  filled  with'evil  whilst  my  fit 
Continues,  and  do  scores  of  murders  then, 
In  fancy,  and,  in  my  excited  hour. 
Abominations  work  for  which  there  is 
No  name  in  the  vocabulary,  whose  worst 
Expressions  seem  soft  terms  of  innocence, 
Compared  with  the  big  syllables  required 
To  express  me  fully,  when,  in  cruelty 
And  guile,  the  very  soul  of  Moloch  and 
The  machinations  of  the  cunningest  fiends 
That  walk  the  bottomless  pit,  and  therein  ply 


154 


SAUL. 


u  5a 


Their  fruitful  fancies  to  deceive  the  world, 
Move  me  'midst  black  temptation.     O,  I  breathe 
Then  the  live  coals  of  hell,  and  all  my  heart 
Glows  ruddier  than  Tophet's  angry  noon, 
So  bloody  is  my  soul,  and  wrapped  in  sable. 
Say,  what 's  our  cure  ? 

Queen. 
O,  fail  not  now  his  need  1 

Physician. 

Music  can  make  the  raging  maniac  gentle 
As  is  the  slumbering  babe  ;  and  hold  in  thrall 
The  demon  till  he  smile  like  to  an  angel, 
And  creep  from  out  his  victim  to  the  air, 
To  walk  enrapt  and  harmless  on  tne  earth, 
As  erst  he  trod  the  blue  abyss  of  heaven. 

Saul. 

I  envy  him  his  dole  :  a  minstrel  seek 

Me  then. 

Physician. 

Your  Majesty,  I  have  beheld 
A  son  of  Jesse  the  Beth-lehemite^ 
A  most  consummate  player  on  the  harp  ; 
Handsome  and  brave  ;  familiar  with  arms  ; 
One  with  whom  dwells  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  : 
He  keeps  his  father's  sheep  :  his  name  is  David. 

Saul. 

Straight  send  a  messenger  unto  his  father. 

Bidding  him  send  his  son  to  court.        {Exit  Physician. 

Dost  hear,  sweet, 
How  that  the  Devil  is  subdued  by  sound  ? 
He  cannot  be  all  evil  then  ;  for  music 


SAUL. 


155 


Moves  but  that  portion  of  us  which  is  good. 

Nay,  dry  thy  tears.     Come,  come.     Sweet  medicine 

Were  music,  and,  undoubtedly,  effective  ; 

For  I  remember,  lately,  when  possessed, 

Wandering  beyond  the  limits  of  the  garden, 

Into  the  wood,  upon  a  breezy  day, 

The  sound  of  the  swift  brook  assuaged  my  madness, 

That,  as  I  stood  absorbed  upon  the  bank. 

Ebbed  from  me  in  unconscious,  tender  sighs. 

\Exennt, 


SCENE   XI. 

The  garden  of  the  palace.    Enter  two  Domestics. 

First  Domestic. 
How  is  the  King  to-day  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

He 's  furious  ; 
None  dare  approach  him,  and  the  very  dogs 
Shrink  from  him  howling  as  they  cross  his  path. 

First  Domestic. 
O,  horrible  I  a  king  to  be  so  vexed ! 

Second  Domestic. 

I  met  him  even  now,  and  he  did  fix 

His  eyes  upon  me  in  such  savage  sort, 

I  turned  to  avoid  him  ;  but  he  follc^ed  me 

With  vigorous  strides,  and  on  me  poured  hoarse  curses, 

Hissing  'twixt  each  like  a  serpent.    Tenified, 

I  looked  behind  me,  and  him  saw  returning 

Upon  his  steps  !  yet  his  deep  growls  I  heard. 


156 


SAUL. 


And  sounds  as  if  of  horrid  chidings,  that 
He  seemed  to  reply  to  in  an  abject  sort ; 
And  cast  himself  at  last  sheer  on  the  ground, 
And  struggled  'mongst  the  shrubs  like  to  a  dragon, 
Dust-covered  and  as  contending  with  a  foe  ; 
Then  writhed  in  helplessness  as  if  o'ercome, 
And,  panting,  lay  at  last  supine  and  moaning. 

First  Domestic. 
What  didst  thou  then  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

I  dared  not  re-approach  him. 
I  stood  and  watched  him  till  he  seemed  to  sleep ; 
Then  came  I  hither. 

First  Domestic. 

Dost  thou  think  he  will 
Awake,  and,  prowling  in  his  mood  malicious. 
Come  stumbUng  here  upon  us  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

Heaven  forefend  ! 
For  he  would  not  respect  us  :  —  nay,  't  is  said 
That  madmen  are  most  bitter  against  those 
Whom  most  they  love  in  their  clear  hours  of  saneness. 

First  Domestic. 
*Hearken  !  what  sound  is  that  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

J  It  is  the  harp 

O' the  stripling  David,  whom  the  King  hath  sent  for 
To  soothe  him  in  his  hour.     See  where  he  sits, 
Like  to  a  youthful  angel  on  the  mount 
In  Paradise.    The  Queen  hath  shrewdly  set  him 


SAUL.  157 

Hard  by  the  lattice  of  the  royal  chamber, 
So  that  the  king  may  hear  him  and  be  taken 
In  his  own  lure. 

First  Domestic. 

But  will  the  evil  spirit 
Permit  him  to  approach  its  enemy  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

I've  heard  all  spirits  —  fallen  ones  as  well  as  they 
That  are  unfallen  —  have  delight  in  music, 
It  being  that  which  gave  most  zest  to  heaven. 
Listen,  is  it  not  sweet  ? 

First  Domestic. 

'T  is  more  than  sweet ; 
'T  would  soothe  a  tiger,  or  the  wretch  that  droops 
Beneath  despair,  or  him  whose  soul  is  chafing 
Against  itself;  seized  by  some  rude  remorse 
Of  sweeping  passion,  even  as  the  big, 
Abraded  boulder  of  the  swollen  brook, 
Rolling  and  wasted  underneath  the  rush 
Of  worrying  waves.     'T  would  lift  that  back  to  hope, 
This  back  to  peace. 

Second  Domestic. 

Lo,  where  the  King  comes  back ! 
How  formidable  he  seems  !  — but  now  thou  'dst  think 
Him  tame,  hadst  thou  but  seen  him  lately.     Mark  him. 

First  Domestic. 

I  do,  even  in  fear  ;  for  yet  his  lips 
Are  muttering,  and  roll  his  cloudy  eyes. 
I  hope  he  will  not  pass  us. 


158 


SAUL. 


'i' 


4 

1i 


life  ■  '    « 


iil 


Second  Domestic. 

Stand  aside : 
Behold,  this  way  he  comes  with  heavy  steps  ; 
Stooping,  an  i  with  his  tongue  lolling  out  and  bloody. 
Alas,  how  brutalized,  how  laden  with  sorrows  I 
He  feels  his  degradation,  and  he  snorts, 
Shaking  his  uncombed  and  luxuriant  locks, 
Like  to  an  angry  steed  that  meditates 
To  throw  its  rider. 

First  Domestic. 

I  am  terrified 
To  look  upon  him. 

Second  Domestic. 

He  is  smeared  and  foul 
With  stains  of  earth,  and  foam  clings  to  his  lips ; 
Clenched  are  his  fists,  and,  vertical  his  arms 
Working  consentive  to  his  heavy  tread, 
He  seems  to  pound  both  earth  and  air. 

First  Domestic. 

Alas! 

And  is  that  Saul,  our  king,  our  royal  master  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

Austere  he  always  looked,  yet  always  noble  ; 

But  now,  abstracted  of  his  manly  gait, 

And  champing  at  the  bridle  of  the  fiend, 

He  's  dreader  than  the  rank  and  brindled  boar. 

Whose  sharp,  white  tusks  are  draped  with  liquid  gore. 

We  're  safe  ;  but  now  I  would  not  be  within 

Yon  chamber  where  the  young  musician  sits 

For  a  year's  wages. 


159 


SAUL. 

First  Domestic. 

Thitherward  he  turns. 
He  has  caught  the  sound,  and  due  approaches  it ; 
liut  whether  in  dudgeon  or  in  softening  temper 
I  cannot  tell.     He  hesitates  on  the  threshold. 

Second  Domestic. 

He  's  like  the  ox  that  snuffs  the  slaughter-house 
Before  it  enters. 

First  Domestic. 

He  has  entered  now ; 
And  may  Heaven  grant  this  music  may  assuage  him. 

Second  Domestic. 

It  either  will,  or  else  the  more  enrage  him. 
Come  let  us  hence,  for  we  have  seen  too  much. 


First  Domestic. 
Alas  the  day  we  ever  should  see  such  I 


\Exeunt, 


SCENE  xn. 

A  chamber  of  the  palace.      David  playing  on  his  harp, 
Saul  enters  and  listens,  and  at  lengt^^^JCfifi  ceases. 


Saul. 

Still  more,  still  more :  I  feel  the  demon  move 
Am      t  the  gloomy  branches  of  my  breast, 
As  moves  a  bird  that  buries  itself  deeper 
Within  its  nest  at  stirring  of  the  storm. 
(David  plays  again.) 


i6o 


SAUL. 


Were  ever  sounds  so  sweet !  —  where  am  I  ?     0, 
I  have  been  down  in  hell,  but  this  is  heaven  ! 
It  grows  yet  sweeter,  —  't  is  a  wondrous  air. 
Methinks  I  lately  died  a  hideous  death, 
And  that  they  buried  me  accursed  and  cursing. 
But  this  is  not  the  grave  ;  for,  surely,  music 
Comes  not  t'  reanimate  man  'neath  the  clods. 
Let  me  not  think  on  't  I  yet  a  fiend  fierce  tore  me. 
Ah,  I  remember  now,  too  much  remember  ; 
But  I  am  better :  still  methinks  I  fainted  ; 
Or  was  the  whole  a  fearful,  nightmare  dream  ? 
Nay,  am  I  yet  not  dreaming  ?    No  ;  I  wake  : 
And,  as  from  dream  or  as  from  being  born, 
Without  the  outcry  of  a  mother's  ti  avail ; 
Or,  as  if  waking  from  a  revery, 
I  to  myself  am  ushered  by  strange  music, 
That,  in  its  solemn  gentleness,  falls  on  me 
Like  a  superior's  ble  ssing.     Give  me  more 
Of  this  sweet  benefit. 

{After  having  listened  again. ) 

Who  is   his  stranger  ?     Yes,  I  know  him  now. 
'T  is  not  a  heavenly  spirit,  though  so  like  one, 
With  curving  aims  encompassing  the  harp, 
As  clasps  the  landscape  the  aerial  bow : 
It  is  the  minstrel  youth  from  Bethlehem  \ 
In  form,  indeed,  surpassing  beautiful. 
Methinks  he  fiygii  address  himself  to  sing  : 
I  '11  lister^  (i^pr love  him  as  he  sits 
Rapt,  like  a  statue  conjured  from  the  air. 
Hist ! 

David  (sings,  accompanying  himself  on  his  harp). 
O  Lord,  have  mercy  on  the  king ; 
The  evil  spirit  from  him  take ; 


SAUL. 

His  soul  from  its  sore  suffering 
Deliver,  for  thy  goodness'  sake. 

Saul  {aside). 
He  for  me  prays. 

O,  heal  thine  own  Anointed's  hurt ; 
Let  evil  from  his  thoughts  be  driven  ; 
And  breathe  upon  his  troubled  heart 
The  balmy  sense  of  fault  forgiven. 

Saul  {aside). 
I  would  not  hide  my  faults  ;  amen. 

Great  God,  thou  art  within  this  place  ; 
The  universe  is  tilled  with  thee  : 
To  all  thou  givest  strength  and  grace  ; 
O,  give  the  king  thy  grace  to  see. 

Saul  {aside). 

What  have  I  done  deserved  the  loss  of  grace  ? 
I  cannot  say  "amen";  —  an  I  if  I  did, 
My  feeble  amen  would  be  blown  away 
Before  it  had  reached  heaven.     I  cannot  ^ay  it : 
There  disbelief  takes  prisoner  my  tongue  ! 

As  after  winter  cometh  spring, 
May  joy  unto  his  soul  return  ;  — 
And  me,  in  thy  good  pleasure,  bring 
To  tend  my  flock  where  I  was  born. 

Saul  {aside). 
So  able,  yet  so  humble ! 

(Aloud.)  David,  no ; 
Thou  shalt  remain  and  be  mine  armor-bearer. 


i6i 


i^Ja.. '^>  ''''-    ' ji^*i- .JiJ- 


I 


J 


'Hi 
II 


I    ; 


11    ■ 


162 


SAC/L. 


What,  wouldst  thou  seek  again  the  idle  downs, 

'Midst  senseless  sheep,  to  spend  the  listless  day, 

Watching  the  doings  of  thy  ewes  and  rams  1 

Thou  shalt  go  with  me  to  the  martial  field 

And  see  great  deeds  thereon. 

Myself  will  teach  thee  military  lessons  ; 

To  tell  the  enemy's  numbers  ;  to  discover 

His  vulnerable  points  ;  by  stratagem 

To  draw  him  from  his  posts  of  vantage  ;  how 

Swift  to  advance  ;  how  to  surprise  the  foe  ; 

And  how  to  leaven  others  with  thy  courage ; 

How  win  from  Ammon  and  the.  strong  Philistine 

The  double  prize  of  vengeance  and  renown  ; 

And  how  at  last  to  drink  triumphantly, 

From  goblet  of  victorious  return, 

The  blood-red  wine  of  war. 

Meantime,  thy  lyric  pleasures  need  not  end  ; 

For  the  fair  maidens  of  the  court  affect 

Music  and  song.     Go  now  and  tell  the  Queen 

All  the  advantage  thou  hast  been  to  me. 

[Exii  David. 

How  potent  is  the  voice  of  music !  stronger 

Even  than  is  a  king's  command.     How  oft 

In  vain  have  I  adjured  this  demon  hence  I 

O  Music,  thou  art  a  magician !     Strange, 

Most  strange,  we  did  not  sooner  think  of  thee, 

And  charm  us  with  thy  gentle  sorcery. 

Ahinoam  {entering^  and  rushing  to  his  arms). 
My  regal  Saul ;  my  dear,  recovered  lord  I 

Saul  {embracing  her). 
Kiss  me,  dear  wife,  though  I  am  smeared  and  foul. 


r 


I    ; 


SAUL. 

Ahinoam. 

O  no,  thou  art  not  foul  to  me  ;  no  more 

Than  is  the  tiger,  with  his  brindling  stripes 

Foul  to  his  mate,  or  leopard  with  his  spots, 

Or  than  the  kingly  lion  to  his  love, 

When,  with  dishevelled  and  still-lifted  mane, 

He  stalks  back  from  the  chase  into  his  den  ; 

Yet  come  unto  your  closet  with  me  now, 

And  cleanse  yourself  from  these  degrading  stains. 

Saul. 

More  fair  than  in  thy  fairest  flush  of  youth. 
Now  in  thy  ripened  womanhood,  that  bears 
To  me  such  duteous  harvest !     Love,  we  '11  keep 
This  shepherd  youth  at  court ;  so,  if  need  be, 
He  may  again  his  wondrous  skill  display. 
And  chase  the  demon  as  he  has  to-day. 


163 


Ahinoam. 
A  debt  we  owe  him  it  were  hard  to  pay. 


ID. 


\Exeunt. 


SCENE   XIII. 


Within  the  palace.    Enter  an  Officer  and  a  Courtier. 


It  is  most  wonderful. 


Courtier. 


Officer. 

'T  is  so  indeed  : 
This  youth  hath  made  the  King  a  king  again  ; 
Whose  evil  term  hath  day  by  day  grown  shorter, 


>  > 


{  ! 


'■\\\'l 

in 


M  li 


164 


.SAUL. 


Till  't  is  no  more.     Thanks  to  that  noble  shepherd, 
Who,  with  the  engines  of  his  harp  and  voice, 
Has,  since  his  coming  hither,  planned  and  laid 
Such  heavy  siege  to  this  king-entering  demon, 
That  now  our  master  stands  erect  and  sound ; 
His  royal  mind's  strong  citadel  being  freed 
And  purged  from  evil  influence. 

Courtier. 

O,  great  joy 
I  feel  at  this  deliverance  ! 

Officer. 

Abner  wept. 
Nor  could  restrain  his  tears  for  very  bliss, 
To  see  his  royal  cousin  look  so  bravely, 
And  bear  his  helm  as  wont  was  'fore  the  troops, 
Who  with  their  myriad  tongue-blast  rent  the  sky 
And  shook  the  marble  base  of  Gibeah. 

Courtier. 
I  saw  the  Queen,  too,  watch  him  from  her  window, 
With  mingled  looks  of  gladness,  pride,  and  love  ;  — 
Yet  wherein  some  misgiving  seemed  to  lurk 
And  check  her  exultation. 

Officer. 

She  's  discreet 
As  he  is  brave ;  more  thoughtful,  and  less  sanguine 
Than  he  (even  as  she  should  be,  being  woman). 

Courtier. 
His  Highness  Jonathan  was  at  the  review. 

Officer. 

Yes  ;  at  the  side  of  his  great  Sire  he  moved. 
As  if  he  meant  preclude  all  other  tendance. 


SAUL,  165 

Courtier. 

I  marked  that  circumstance,  and  from  it  deemed 
The  Prince  was  fearful  of  a  new  access, 
I'  the  very  midst  and  presence  of  the  soldiery. 
'T  was  somewhat  rash  so  soon  to  v'enture  forth  ; 
Yet  very  like  the  King.    What  age  is  the  moon  ? 

Officer. 
I  know  not ;  con  the  calendar. 

Courtier. 

Not  now : 
I  go  to  attend  the  Princes  and  Pincesses, 
And  greet  them  on  the  end  of  their  distresses.     \^Exit 

Officer. 

Ha,  ha !  how  sudden  shoots  this  bolt  of  peace  ! 
I  wish,  my  blooming,  jaunty  sprig  of  clover, 
Your  joy  may  last,  and  their  distress  be  over. 

[Exit,  and  enter  Malzah. 

Malzah. 

Music,  music  hath  its  sway  ; 
Music's  order  I  obey  : 
I  have  unwound  myself  at  sound 
From  off  Saul's  heart,  where  coiled  I  lay. 
'T  is  true,  awhile  I  've  lost  the  game  ; 
Let  fate  and  me  divide  the  blame. 
And  now  away,  away  ;  —  but  whither, 
Whither,  meantime,  shall  I  go  } 
Erelong  I  must  returned  be  hither. 
There 's  Jordan,  Danube,  and  the  Po, 
And  Western  rivers  huge,  I  know : 
There 's  Ganges,  ana  the  Euphrates, 
Nilus,  and  the  stretching  seas  : 


n 


I 

It 


1 

Hiiiilf 


milt 


1 66  SAUL. 

There  's  many  a  lake  and  many  a  glen 
To  rest  me,  as  in  heaven,  again  ; 
With  Alps,  and  the  Himalayan  range  :  — 
And  there  's  the  Desert  tor  a  change. 
Whither  shall  I  go  ? 

I  '11  sit  i'  the  sky, 
And  laugh  at  mortals  and  at  rare  ; 
(Not  soaring,  as  before,  too  high, 
And  bring  upon  myself  a  snare  ; ) 
But  out  my  motley  fancies  spin 
Like  cobwebs  on  the  yellow  air ; 
Laugh  bright  with  joy,  or  dusky  grin 
In  changeful  mood  of  seance  there. 
The  yellow  air  !  the  yellow  air  ! 
He 's  great  who 's  happy  anywhere. 

To  be  the  vassals  and  the  slaves  of  music 

Is  weakness  that  afflicts  all  heaven-born  spirits. 

But  touch  whom  with  the  murmur  of  a  lute, 

Or  swell  and  fill  whom  from  the  harmonious  lyre, 

And  man  may  lead  them  wheresoe'er  he  wills  ; 

And  stare  to  see  the  nude  demoniac 

Sit  clothed  and  void  of  frenzy.     I  '11  begone. 

And  take  a  posy  with  me  from  Saul's  garden. 

[Exit;   am/  soon  re-enters,  bearing  a  huge  nosegay,  and 
thereat  snuffing. 
Shall  I  fling  it  in  the  earth's  face,  from  whence  I  took  it ! 
Albeit  I  've  seen,  perhaps,  flowers  as  mean  in  heaven. 
Well,  I  will  think  that  these  are  heaven's.     Alack, 
This  is  a  poor  excuse  for  asphodel ;  — 
And  yet  it  has  the  true  divine  aroma. 
Here 's  ladslove,  and  the  flower  which  even  death 
Cannot  unscent,  the  all-transcending  rose. 
Here  's  gilly-flower,  and  violets  dark  as  eyes 


. 


SAUL. 


167 


Of  Hebrew  maidens.     There  's  convolvulus, 

That  sickens  ere  noon  and  dies  ere  evening. 

Here  's  monkey's-cap.  —  Egad  !  't  would  cap  a  monkey 

To  say  what  I  have  gathered  ;  for  I  spread  my  arms 

And  closed  them  like  two  scythes.    - 1   have  crushed 

many  ; 
I  Ve  sadly  mangled  my  lilies.     However,  here 
Is  the  august  camelia,  and  here's  maiigold, 
And,  as  I  think,  i'  the  bottom,  two  vast  sunflowers. 
There  are  some  bluebells,  and  a  pair  of  foxgloves 
(But  not  of  the  kind  that  Samson's  foxes  wore). 
That 's  mint ;  and  here  is  something  like  a  thistle 
Wherewith  to  prick  my  nose  should  I  grow  sleepy. 
O,  I  've  not  half  enumerated  them  1 
Here 's  that  and  that,  and  many  trifling  things, 
Which,  had  I  time,  and  were  i'  the  vein  for  scandal, 

1  could  compare  to  other  trifling  things. 

But  shall  not.    Ah,  here 's  head-hanging-down  narcissus, 
A  true  and  perfect  emblem  of  myself. 

2  '11  count  it  my  own  likeness  ;  and  so  leave  it 
For  delectation  of  my  radiant  mistress, 
Who,  lieu  of  keeping  watch  and  ward  o'er  me, 
May  keep  it  over  my  pale  effigy. 

{Drops  the  narcissus. ) 

I  '11  hang  this  matchless  rose  upon  my  lips. 
And  whilst  I  'm  flying  will  inhale  its  breath. 

lExit. 


It 


ll,11 


irt|- 


Ml 


im 


III 


I 


SAUL. 

SECOND     PART. 


Persons  Represented. 
Saul,  King  of  Israel 
Jonathan,  Saul's  Eldest  Son. 
Abner,  SauPs  Cousin. 

David,  a  Young  Shepherd,  and  afterward  King  of  Israel 
Jesse,  David's  Father. 

Eliab,  Shammah,  and  Aminadab,  Brothers  of  David. 

Goliath,   The  Philistine  Giant. 

JOKIEL,  An  Aged  Member  of  the  Royal  Household. 

Jared    a  Youthful  Member  of  the  same. 

Ahinoam,  Queen  of  Israel 

Zelehtha,  An  Angel 

Zaph, 

Zepho, 

Malzah,  The  Evil  spirit  of  the  Lord 
Courtiers,  Officers,  Soldiers,  Maidens,  &c 


\  Demons. 


^IftH- 


>! 


ACT    I. 

SCENE     I. 

Gibeah.    Interior  of  the  palace.    Enter  ]oK.iEi.  and  ]aked,  tAe 
latter  having  been  some  time  absent. 

Jared. 

Now  that  we  are  at  leisure,  thou  canst  tell  me, 
Somewhat  at  greater  length,  how  fares  our  house  : 
How  the  clouds  float  in  'ts  sky  ;  which  one  looks  threat- 
ening 
What  minister  in  the  sea  of  state  affairs, 
Or  in  his  own  especial  bay  of  office, 
Hath  struck  a  rock,  or  run  his  craft  ashore  ; 
Who  is  wrecked  forever,  who  stranded  in  disgrace, 
Who  riding  now  the  waves  with  oar  and  sail. 
And  who  just  foundered.     Come  ;  the  King  is  better. 
What  next  ?    How  fares  the  stripling  David  ? 


JOKIEL. 


O, 


Gone  home  :  he  pined  for  home,  and  the  clear  brooks 
By  Beth-lehem. 


xya 


SAUL. 


i 


|;^l' 


Jared. 

Thou  sayest  not  so !  he  took  the  King 
Vastly. 

JOKIEL. 

Ay,  so  he  did ;  and  cowed  the  Spirit 
That  did  so  sore  torment  him,  that,  at  length, 
'T  would  flee  before  the  opening  of  the  strain. 
That  was  prolonged  to  charm  the  royal  ears ; 
While  all  the  household  did  suspend  its  cares, 
And  post  itself  on  stairs  and  passages 
To  banquet  on  the  sounds.  —  But  he  is  gone. 

Jared. 

Alas,  that  he  should  go  !     So  brave  a  youth  I  — 
So  handsome  too  1 

JOKIEL. 
He  hindered  labor. 

Jared. 

How  ? 

JOKIEL. 

Even  from  the  cellars  to  the  garrets,  all 

The  palace's  industrious  routine 

Worked  under  a  dull  clog  on  every  wheel ; 

And  every  operant  shuttle  of  the  loom 

Would  catch  and  stop  midway  as  he  went  by  it. 

He  was  the  song  of  the  fat,  smutted  slut. 

As  she  knelt  scouring  (and,  with  labor,  sweating 

Into)  her  greasy  kettles  ;  and  the  maid 

O'  the  chamber  murmured  his  euphonious  name, 

As  she  stroked  down  the  milk-white  coverlet ; 

While  minxes  from  the  town  and  country  near 

Came  hither,  zealous  to  serve  for  naught  the  Queen. 

N  or  were  the  ladies  of  the  court  much  better ; 


gg.-|g'.  tf*'WttMiiJtWtBiiiiffife.iL)Wi 


SA  UL. 


173 


They  scarce  concealed  their  loves  ;  and  antique  maids, 

Gazinj^  abstracted,  browsed  upon  his  cheeks, 

And  drank  long  at  the  clear  brook  of  his  eyes, 

'Neath  some  excuse  of  empty  colloquy. 

The  youthful  damsels  I  have  caught  —  ha,  ha  !  — 

Peering  from  lattice  corners  at  him  ;  yea, 

Each  other  pulling  thence,  that  each  might  view 

The  Adolescent,  and,  with  wanton  image. 

Tenant  the  empty  chamber  of  her  mind  ; 

Or  the  desire-scorched  desert  of  her  soul 

Invade  with  Ishmaelites  of  lawless  thoughts, 

To  rove  at  leisure  o'er  her  virgin  rock, 

And  lovc-unwatered  fancy. 

Jared. 

Ah,  poor  youth  I 
Unfortunate  in  his  excess  of  fortune :  — 
An  idol  kissed  away  by  its  adorers. 
Well  might  he  flee  to  Beth-lehem  1 

JOKIEL. 

Well  indeed  ; 

And  well  indeed  men  were  not  fairer  formed. 

Or,  by  the  ark,  the  world's  work  had  stood  still,  — 

Yea,  the  whole  garden  of  our  state  run  wild ; 

Our  household  flower-beds   gone    untrimmed,   whilst 

women 

Had  on  us  hung  like  bees  on  honeyed  flowers. 

O,  they  are  fond,  arc  fond,  —  but  not  of  thee. 

This  David  hath  been  to  us  key  and  mirror 

T'  unlock  the  nature  of  woman,  and  to  show  it 

Uplighted  to  our  eyes. 

Jared. 
Thou  art  a  cockscomb ! 


i 


174 


SAUL. 


% 


I  I 


JCKIEL. 

Hast  thou  a  weapon  that  can  cut  a  comb  ? 
Know'st  thou  that  the  PhiHstines  are  approaching  ? 


No. 


Jared. 

J  OKI  EL. 


Then  I  tell  thee ;  and  I  tell  thee,  too, 
Thr.c  on  *o-morrovv  Saul  goes  fonh  to  meet  them. 
I  tell  thee  truth  ;  there  's  bloodshed  now  in  train, 
And,  though  thou  fight  not,  thou  mayest  scratch  the  sbin. 
Let 's  go  ;  thou  lookest  enlightened.  —  Here  Saul  comes. 
The  bee  of  battle  in  his  ear  now  hums. 

[Examt,  and  i'/ih'r  SfiiVL. 

Saul. 
Philistia  's  forth  again,  and  our  pale  swords 
Must  blush  once  more  i'  the  livery  of  war. 
With  instant  speed  wc  '11  meet  the  foe  half-way. 
He  shall  not  say  that  lie  hath  wasted  us. 
My  army  from  me  melt  not  now  away 
As  at  accursed  Gilgal.     Many  a  field 
Of  slaughter  hath  inured  them  to  death's  terror  ; 
They  fear  not  violent  end  ;  and  discipline. 
Combined  with  stern  selection  of  each  man, 
Hath  made  my  standing  legions  thrice  the  worth 
Of  raw,  unbroken  levies.     So  let  come 
Again  these  martial  traders  of  the  shore, 
To  be  hurled  back  as  they  have  been  oefore. 

{Enfer  AntiER.) 

Abner. 
All 's  ready  for  the  march. 

Saul. 

Then  we  '11  be  gone. 
Hast  parted  from  thy  wife  ? 


. 


M  i 


II 


i 


Thy  children  ? 


SA  UL. 

Abner. 

I  have  not. 

Saul. 
Abner. 


»75 


Nor 


No. 


Saul. 

Then  do  not :  like  me,  go 
To  this  arena  of  uncertain  strife 
Without  leave-taking  or  of  child  or  wife  ; 
For  worst  of  things  that  may  unnerve  a  nian 
Is  thinking  we  may  never  meet  again.  [Exeunt. 


A  sylvan  country. 


SCENE   11. 

Zaph  sealed,  and  musing,  with  Zepho 
standing  near  him. 


Zepho  [^Hd?). 
My  master  seems  but  ill  at  ease  to-day. 

,'.APH. 

Zepho. 
What  says  my  master  to  his  servant  ? 


Zepho,  — 


Zaph. 

The  Jewish  king  now  walks  at  large  and  sound, 
Yet  of  our  emissary  Malzah  hear  we  nothing  : 
Go  now,  sweet  spirit,  and,  if  need  be,  seek 
This  world  all  over  for  him  ;  —  find  him  out. 
Be  he  within  the  bounds  of  earth  and  liell. 


4 


i. 


c 


ii 


! 


rij- 


176 


43/2  C^i.^* 


'   1 


He  is  a  most  erratic  spirit,  so 

May  give  thee  trouble  (as  I  give  thee  time) 

To  find  him,  for  he  may  be  now  diminished, 

And  at  the  bottom  of  some  silken  flower. 

Wherein,  I  know,  he  loves,  when  evening  comes. 

To  creep,  and  lie  all  night,  encanopied 

Beneath  the  manifold  and  scented  petals  ; 

Fancying,  he  says,  he  bids  the  world  adieu, 

And  is  again  a  slumbcrer  in  heaven  : 

Or,  in  some  other  vein,  perchance  thou  'it  find  him 

Within  the  walls  or  dens  of  some  famed  city. 

Give  thou  a  general  search,  in  open  day, 

r  the  town  and  country's  ample  field  ;  and  next 

Seek  him  in  dusky  cave,  and  in  dim  grot ; 

And  in  the  shadow  of  the  precipice, 

Prone  or  supine  extended  motionless  ; 

Or,  in  the  twilight  of  o'erhanging  leaves. 

Swung  at  the  nodding  arm  of  some  vast  bcecli. 

By  moonlight  seek  him  on  the  mount,  at  noon 

In  the  translucent  waters  salt  or  fresh ; 

Or  near  the  dank-marged  fountain,  or  clear  well. 

Watching  the  tadpole  thrive  on  suck  of  venom  ; 

Or  where  tlie  brook  runs  o'er  the  stones,  and  smooths 

Their  green  locks  with  its  cui  rent's  crystal  comb. 

Seek  him  in  rising  vapors,  and  in  clouds 

Crimson  or  dun  ;  and  often  on  the  edge 

Of  the  gray  morning  and  of  tawny  eve  : 

Search  in  the  rocky  alcove  and  woody  bower  ; 

And  in  the  crows'-nest  look,  and  into  every 

Pilgrim-crowd-drawing  Idol,  wherein  he 

Is  wont  to  sit  in  darkness  and  be  worshipped. 

If  thou  shouldst  find  him  not  in  these,  search  for  him 

By  the  lone  melancholy  tarns  of  bitterns  ; 

And  in  the  embosomed  dells,  whereunto  maidens 


B*  i  ■' 


SAUL.  177 

Resort  to  batue  witliin  the  tepid  pool. 
Look  specially  there,  and,  if  thou  seest  peeping  . 
Satyr  or  :"aun,  give  chase  and  call  out  "  Malzah  1" 
For  he  shall  know  thy  voice  and  own  to  his  name. 

Zepho. 
Good ;  if  I  catch 't  not,  call  me  swift  no  more. 

Zaph. 
Go  now,  my  spirit.  \Exit  Zepho. 

How  shall  I  feed  the  hungry  grudge  that  gnaws  me  ? 

My  machination  against  Gloriel 

Was  all  too  late  :  what  cares  he  now  for  Saul  ?  — 

Ay,  or  did  ever,  for  the  spirits  of  heaven 

Cannot  feel  sympathy,  since  they  cannot  feel  sorrow. 

Wht  t    !  "11  I  do,  for  pardon  lies  not  in  me  1 

I  will  iicc  Malzah  upon  Samuel, 

Whom,  if  my  spies  report  to  me  aright, 

Now  Gloriel  guards  'gamst  Saul  with  half  a  le^ior* 

Never  can  I  forget  that  angel's  scorn. 

And  taunt  at  my  despair-wrung  moans  in  hell. 

Naught  save  revenge  can  make  my  sick  soul  well. 

\ExU, 


SCENE    III. 

The  Hebrew  camp  amongst  the  hills  by  the   Valley  of  Elah 
Time,  after  midnight.     Enter  Saul  and  Abner, 

Saul. 

Let  discipline  be  strictly  kept.     Remember, 
Fertile  are  these  Philistines  in  war's  wiles  ; 
And  much  experience  hath  made  them  apt 
At  seizing  on  advantage.     Still  our  tactics 


jJF^*>v':.>'-  ;  •  ' 


^ 


s  ■ : 


il! 


ill  ' 


I 


1i  I 


178 


SAUL. 


May  trim  the  balance  of  positions,  which 

At  present  favors  them.     Thou  seest  that  they 

Respect  us  ;  for  they  dare  not  leave  their  heights, 

But  wait,  instead,  till  we  descend  from  ours. 

And,  in  the  open  and  exposing  vale,     , 

Deploy  deft.iceless  ;  folly  none  shall  see 

Till  I  forget  all  warlike  strategy. 

Abner. 

So  be  it  ;  we  can  wait,  since  all  behind 
Are  ours,  and  glad  to  cater  to  our  need  :         ' ' 
But,  for  his  food  and  warlike  store,  the  foe 
Must  either  steal  or  for  them  homeward  go. 

Saul. 

And  yet  it  irks  me  that  I  here  must  stand 
And  watch  your  small  encounters  ;  nor  the  less 
Does  it  arouse  my  still-impatient  blood, 
Because  beyond  they  rob  us,  and  this  grim 
Audacious  Giant  comes,  and,  day  by  day, 
Defies  us  with  his  challenge,  whilst  I  see 
Thereat  our  men's  souls  sinking  ;  and  at  times 
I  fear  some  ambushed  ill  is  in  delay, 
As  formerly  at  Gilgal.     We  still  doubt 
Fortune,  and,  were  't  not  madness,  would  assail 
Th'  Philistine  ere  the  dawning  ;  for  we  wait 
Not  now  the  inquiring  of  the  Lord.     Say,  Abner, 
Say,  art  thou  not  afraid  to  follow  one 
Who  leads  you  in  his  own  unaided  might. 

Abner. 
Sometimes.     And  yet  full  many  a  field  we  've  won 
Under  thy  banners  since  no  sacrifice 
Them  consecrated,  or  divine  assurance 
Gave  to  our  people  courage  not  their  own  ;  — 


SAUL. 

People,  not  soldiers  ;  for  thou  art  the  first 
Who  made  in  Israel  soldiers,  and  hast  bidden 
Them  follow  war,  and  learn  it  as  a  trade. 

Saul. 

It  is  a  trade,  a  terrible  trade  too  1 

Whilst,  with  the  ambition  of  the  human  soul, 

And  greediness  of  the  insatiate  spirits 

Of  many,  —  to  say  naught  of  stubborn  honor 

And  stern  religion,  neither  of  which  can 

Allow  unto  their  claims  a  compromise,  — 

I  sec  not  how  the  world  can  well  forego  it, 

At  those  recurring,  violent  occasions, 

When  the  distempered  bodies  politic 

Of  neighboring  states  shall  to  the  surface  throw 

Their  evi^  humors.     What  is  thine  opinion  ? 

Abner. 

'T  is  scarce  for  luxury  men  fight ;  neither 
Is  it  for  conquest  always,  nor  to  throw 
Away  home  tyranny,  nor  break  foreign  yoke. 

Saul. 

One  half  the  pleasure  there  is  in  this  world 
Seems,  unto  me,  evolved  and  spun  through  pain, 
E'en  as  some  sweet  medicaments  and  syrups 
Through  filthy  processes  arrive  distilled. 

Abner. 

'T  is  true  this  very  pang  jf  war  brings  with  it 
Delight 

Saul. 

Much,  Abner,  did  I  feel  that  once  ; 
But  now,  the  buoying  wings  of  novelty, 


179 


Hi 


1  1 


180 


SAUL. 


Shorn  down  or  plucked,  together  with  my  spirits 
Much  maimed  by  priestly  treachery  and  scorn, 
(Yet  by  that  very  scorn  I  'm  strengthened,)  now, 
When  comes  heroic  war,  my  blunted  mind 
Feels  little  save  the  pressure  of  its  care  ;  — 
Yet  welcome  care  ;  ay,  welcome  priestly  scorn  ; 
Ay,  welcome  treachery,  which  I  scorn  to  fear,  — 
T  is  what  I  have  scorned,  and  will  scorn,  to  fear  : 
For  what  I  am,  I  am  because  I  've  scorned, 
Not  God,  but  the  haughtiest  hierarchy 
That  ever  in  its  sacerdotal  pride 
Sought  to  be  paramount  amidst  the  world  :  — 
Moreo'er,  these  ills  now  keep  me  from  one  greater. 


And  what  is  that  ? 


Abner. 
Saul. 


O,  the  old  malady,  — 
Devil  possession.     War  while  waged  abroad 
Keeps  me  in  peace  at  home.     Thou  understand'st  ? 
()  Abner,  Abner,  'tis  no  easy  thing 
To  be  demoniac,  yet  to  act  the  king. 

Abner. 
Cousin,  I  thought  that  you  were  quite  delivered 
From  that  sad  harassment ! 

Saul. 

I  have  been  charmed 
Awhile  by  music  ;  and  the  trumpets'  din, 
The  clang  of  arms,  and  all  this  warlike  care, 
Divert  me :  so  the  fiend  now  lays  not  hold 
Upon  my  soul :  but,  when  this  war  is  o'er, 
He  will  return,  torment  me  all  the  more. 


Alas ! 


Abner. 


SAUL.  i8i 

Saul. 

Pity  me  not ;  but  wonder  why 
I  'm  in  that  plight  that  doth  provoke  thy  pity. 

Abner. 
Jehovah's  ways  are  dark. 

Saul. 

If  they  be  just,  I  care  not. 
I  can  endure  till  death  relieve  me,  —  ay, 
And  not  complain  ;  but  doubt  enfeebles  me, 
And  my  strong  heart,  that  gladdeth  to  endure, 
Falters  'neath  its  misgivings,  and,  vexed,  beats 
Into  the  speed  of  fever,  when  it  thinks 
That  the  Almighty  greater  is  than  good. 

Abner. 
Beware  how  thou  dost  charge  the  God  who  made  thee  ! 

Saul. 

I  did  not  crave  my  making  ;  did  not  beg 

To  be  a  ruler.     What  I  am  I  am 

Perforce  :  yet  would  I  loyally  perform 

The  work  imposed  upon  me  by  my  Maker 

And  Samuel ;  would  faithfully  discharge 

The  functions  that,  thou  knowest,  I  never  sought.  — 

Lo! 

Did  I  not  hide  myself  amongst  the  baggage 

At  Gilgal's  great  convention,  and  had  need 

To  be  sought  out,  and,  in  a  manner,  dragged 

Before  His  crowded  bar,  and,  there  exposed, 

Like  a  proud  criminal,  to  stand  confessed. 

And  be  admired  for  this  unusual  stature  ? 

What  have  I  done  since  then  ?  what  left  undone  ? 

I  've  sacrificed  ;  —  and  had  I  not  apology  ? 


i8: 


SAUL. 


'» 


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liiji 


I  spared  the  king  of  Amalek  ;  and  Samuel 
Denouncing  came,  and  in  high  umbrage  slew  him. 

Abner. 
Samuel  ne'er  looked  less  like  himself  than  then. 

Saul. 

He  did  become  an  executioner.     O, 

I  could  have  run  between  him  and  the  blade 

That  did  make  ready  the  poor,  fainting  king 

For  the  shambles ! 

Abner. 

Yet  't  was  retribution. 

Saul. 

Pshaw  ! 
Abner. 

rie  had  made  women  childless,  Samuel  said  ; 

So  should  his  mother  childless  be  'mongst  women. 

Saul. 
Have  we  not  all,  who  draw  the  sword,  so  done  ? 
Shall  not  Philistia's  mothers  curse  again, 
Erelong,  our  arms  that  shall  bereave  them  t     Shall 
Not  Israel's  matrons  do  the  like,  and  howl 
By  hill  and  valley  their  young  darlings  slain  ? 
Thrice  helm  thy  head  ;  for  soon  will  at  it  beat 
Such  storm  of  curses,  both  from  sires  and  mothers, 
As  thou  hast  never  seen  its  counterpart, 
Not  e'en  when  darts  flew  at  thee  thick  as  hail. 
'T  was  retribution  .''  —  O,  no  more  of  that ; 
Or  the  great  ghost  of  Amalek  will  rise. 
And  stand  before  us  with  grim-eyed  rebuke.  — 
But  wherefore  this  ?     Now  to  the  left,  and  I 
Will  take  the  right,  see  to  't  our  sentries  walk, 
And  take  no  sleep,  ensconced  in  cosey  crannies  ; 
And  snoring  bass  to  dream-tuned  symphonies, 


SAUL. 


^^Z 


And  strains  engendered  by  the  mountain  winds. 

Good  night. 

Abner. 

Good  night.     A  storm  seems  nigh  at  hand, 

Will  scarce  allow  our  weariest  guards  to  doze  ; 

Even  those  of  them  who  Ve  learned  to  keep  their  watch 

A- walking,  but  not  waking. 

Saul. 

'Midst  these  hills 
The  air  is  fitful,  as,  in  highest  circle,  — 
Be  Samuel's  denunciation  sooth.  — 
Would  seem  to  be  the  favor.     But  thou  knowest 
That  the  uncarcprickcd  hind  and  careless  soldier 
Will  sleep  while  thunderpeals  shake  up  the  world, 
And  earthquakes  'ncath  them  yawn,  until  they  topple 
Into  the  chasm,  still  nodding,  or  until. 
Regardless  of  the  voice  o'  the  watchman,  thunder, 
The  hurrying  lightning  wakens  them  in  Hades. 

Abner. 
The  wind  awakens. 

Saul. 

And  the  sky  grows  blacker. 
Abner. 


Again,  good  night. 


Saul. 

Good  night  to  thee  again. 

\Exit  Abner. 
Now  let  there  be  a  curfew  in  the  air. 

Ye  stars  that  are  the  shining  hearths  of  heaven. 
Down,  gust,  down,  down :   why  comest  thou  thus  flap- 
ping, 
Like  an  ensnardd  spirit  in  my  mantle  ? 

Disclose  me  not ;  this  business  nor  requires 
Ear-warning  gusts  nor  eye-directing  fires.  \ExiL 


t-- 


ACT    II. 

SCENE    I. 

The  country  near  Beth-lehem.     David  tending  his  Jiock. 

David  {sings). 

Father,  father,  let  me  go 

To  the  battle-field !  . 

Why  should  I  not  strike  the  foe  ? 

Why  should  I  not  weapons  wield  ? 

Why  may  I  not  bear  the  shield, 

Draw  the  fatal  bow  ? 

I  I 
{Enter  Jesse.) 

Jesse. 
Son,  cease  to  long  for  danger. 

David. 

Listen,  father; 

(And  be  not  angry  with  me  ;)  ai  o  our  days 

Not  numbered  for  us  ?     It  would  seem  to  me. 

The  field  of  battle  is  as  safe  a  place 

As  is  this  peaceful  and  secluded  mead. 

Where  naught  more  hurtful  comes  than  tooth  of  sheep, 

Or  hoof  of  ox,  or  heedless  tread  of  men, 

Fatal  to  flowers. 


SAUL. 


135 


Jesse. 

Tlicse  arc  mysterious  themes.  — 
But  whether  this  unhazardous  quiet  mead 
Be  even  as  the  noisy,  crowded  scene 
O'er  which  war-chariots  drive,  or  not,  be  sure, 
War  is  not  man's  true  trade.     To  till  the  soil. 
Excel  in  aru,  not  arms,  and  unto  all 
To  do  the  deeds  of  love  and  charity 
In  fear  of  God,  are  our  whole  duty  :  these 
Do  and  thou  shalt  be  happy  :  every  other 
1  Measure  but  ends  in  pain.     Know,  he  whose  hand 
Is  red  with  human  blood  must  not  approach 
Jehovah  nearly,  —  a  plain  evidence 
Of  war's  essential  evil.     Wouldst  thou  wish 
In  youth  to  play  the  slayer  ?     Lo,  the  day 
That  dawns  blood-red  matures  in  wind,  and  fades 
'Midst  drizzling^  rains  spread  o'er  the  gloomy  west. 
Or  goes  'fore  lightning  bellowing  down  the  darkness, 
A  warning  for  all  morrow^  .  —  hence,  do  thou 
Extinguish  this  red  spark  that  may  consume  thee, 
And  far  from  violence  live  content.     As  day 
Now  fails  serene,  so  doth  the  Peaceful's  life. 
Moreover,  have  I  not  three  sons  already 
(Surely  sufficient  for  one  parent's  part ! ) 
Assisting  Saul  to  drive  back  the  invader  ? 
Then  wherefore  should  I  offer  thee,  as  vet 
Uncalled  for  by  his  terrible  conscription  .'*  — 
Thou  but  a  stripling  too  ;  thy  brethren,  men. 
But  be  content ;  for  thou  shalt  start  to-morrow 
Full  early  for  the  camp,  and  take  them  something, 
And  thence  return  with  tidings  of  their  fare. 


David. 
I  thank  you  for  thus  granting  half  my  wish. 


[Exit  Jesse. 


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SAUL. 


As  a  coiled  cane,  when  suddenly  unloose'!, 
Rebounding,  quivers,  throbs  my  heart  with  joy. 

0  night,  be  brief  that  keeps  from  me  the  morn  ! 

1  long,  anticipating,  to  be  gone. 

To  go  is  well ;  to  stay  there  would  seem  better. 
I  '11  even  now  my  flock  lead  toward  its  fold.  — 
How  light  the  heart  whose  weight  is  from  it  rolled  ! 

\Exi(. 


\  \ 


SCENE    II. 

The  Hebrews}  camp  overlooking  the  valley  of  Elah, 

Saul  {entering). 

No  surer  sign  have  we  of  deep  respect, 
Than  when  our  enemies,  all  mannerly, 
Preserve  their  distance ;  for  't  is  surely  true. 
Familiarity  not  only  breeds. 
But  manifests  contempt.     They  still  their  tops 
Of  vantage  keep,  nor  half-way  in  the  vale 
Invite  us  to  shake  hands.     How  different  once  ! 
Now  are  we  at  a  balance  in  the  scales. 
And  this  great  issue  shall  determine  soon 
Which  of  us  kicks  the  beam.     Their  giant  still 
To  insult  us  comes  ;  but  he's  a  harlot  merely. 
Sent  out  before  them  to  decoy  us  down 
Into  the  bottoms,  whither,  if  we  venture, 
They  doubtlessly  intend,  full  fledged,  to  swoop 
And  terribly  embrace  us. 

(A  noise  heard. ) 

There  he  bellows. 
With  voice  like  a  loud  gong's,  his  proud  r^efiance. 
Why  do  my  officers  oppose  me,  when 


i  --Ti 


SAUL. 


187 


I  seek  to  meet  this  bully  ?  for  it  seems 

As  if  his  challenge  were  alone  for  me, 

Who,  though  not  his,  am  of  gigantic  mould. 

Perchance  I  honor  this  event  too  much  ; 

Yet  dear  would  to  me  as  a  victory 

This  braggart  giant's  demolition  be. 

There  is  no  mettle  left  in  Israel 

Or  't  were  not  thus.     I  grow  impatient ;  —  come, 

Soon  giant  slain  or  battle's  general  slaughter  ; 

Come,  victory  won,  or  come  loss  of  my  daughter^ 

[Exit,  and  enter  Hebrew  Soldiers. 

First  Soldier. 

Goliath  is  forth  again  !  come  on  and  look. 

By  heaven,  he  groweth  bigger  even/  day, 

His  voice  more  thunder-like.     Gaze  down  amidst 

The  valley,  and  behold  him,  in  his  mail, 

Move  like  a  fulgent  cloud. 

Second  Soldier. 

Does  one  with  a  shield 
Precede  him  ? 

First  Soldier. 

Yes,  and  looks  no  bigger  than 
A  child,  compared  with  him.     Hearken  again  : 
This  ifi  the  second  time  to-day.     Attend. 

Second  Soldier. 

Not  I  ;  I  'm  weary  of  his  insult,  that 
For  forty  days  hath  now  continued  thus. 


Third  Soldier. 
O,  might  some  Samson  pull  him  to  the  ground  ! 


1 88 


SAUL. 


'n 


Second  Soldier. 

What,  wouldst  thou  have  the  land  shake  with  his  fall  1 
For  it  would  be  as  though  an  arm^d  tower 
Were  toppled  to  the  dust. 

Fourth  Soldier. 

O,  shame  to  us  ! 
Is  there,  then,  no  one  who  can  with  him  cope  ?  — 
None  in  our  army  dare  accept  the  duel  ? 

■         Third  Soldier. 

A) 

None  dare  except  the  King,  and  all  the  host 

Excepteth  him  from  entering  the  lists. 

*T  is  said  he  with  his  cousin  Abner  quarrelled 

Because  he  did  resist  him  unto  force  ; 

Holding  him  when  he  would  have  straight  gone  down 

Into  the  valley  to  the  huge  Philistine. 

Fifth  Soldier. 

It  was  a  madness  in  the  King  to  think 

Contend  with  one,  excelling  him  e'en  more. 

In  size  and  strength,  than  he  therein  doth  others. 

Third  Soldier. 

And  yet  he  would  have  done  it ;  and  now  says, 
Whoe'er  shall  kill  the  giant  he  '11  enrich. 
And  give  his  daughter  unto  him  in  marriage, 
And  make  his  kindred  free. 

Second  Soldier. 

His  Majesty 
May  spare  his  wondrous  bounty,  since  the  giant's 
Mien  will  prevent  all  comers,  for  he  looks 
Terrific  thus  far  off.     His  threatenings  boom 
Up  hither  like  to  fearful  prophecies. 


SAUL. 


189 


And  do  dishearten  all  our  host,  which  now 
Thinks  the  most  mean  Philistine  thing  of  terror. 
Why  go  we  to  the  brink  to  again  behold 
This  show,  which  doth  but  show  to  us  our  shame ! 

{Enter  Y.\AK%f  Abinadab,  and  Shammah,  three  of  David's 

brothers. ) 

Shammah. 
O,  to  have  hither  come  but  this  to  see  1 

Eliab. 
See  who  comes  here,  who  should  now  tend  his  sheep. 

(Enter  David,  and  a  Hebrew  Soldier,  ttamed  Job.  ) 

Job. 
Yonder  thy  brethren  stand. 

David. 

What  troubles  them  ?  — 
But  I  shall  quickly  learn.     This  war,  I  see, 
Hath  taught  their  visages  to  vear  a  frown. 

(Advancing  eagerly  tozvards  them.) 

O  brethren  dear,  well-timed  do  I  arrive 

To  see  both  you  and  the  impending  fight !  — 

But  not  thus  empty  come  I,  as  may  seem : 

For  I  have  left  behind  me,  at  the  trench, 

Provision  for  you  from  our  careful  sire, 

Who  sends  me  to  the  camp  to  learn  your  fare. 

How  goes  it  with  you?  how  succee.ls  the  war?  — 

But  you  are  downcast  ?    Wherefore  are  you  silent  ? 

Why  in  your  eyes  upkindles  no  fierce  joy 

At  coming  on  of  battle  ?    Why  recoil 

Our  outposts  yondei  ?     See  how  they  withdraw. 


190 


SAUL. 


A 


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it  I  ' 

i  '    ' 


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Fear  sits  upon  their  faces  and  they  cast 
Behind  them  glances,  as  if  towards  them  came 
Some  slow-pursuing,  half-disdainful  monster.  — 
O  monstrous  sight !     Say,  brothers,  say,  what  image, 
What  shape,  or  what  conception,  can  compel 
Those  warriors  of  Israel  thus  to  flee. 


Peace,  prattler. 


Shammah. 

Aminadab. 
Truant,  stay  thy  tongue. 

Eliab. 


Shammah. 
The  monster  is  retirinsr. 


Retire. 


Aminadab. 

Then  we  '11  go 
And  eat  our  dinner.     Let  him  mind,  or  yet 
We  will  eat  him,  the  uncircumcised  sinner. 

Eliab.  •  f 

Stay !  for  he  turns  again  in  rage  and  scorn. 
And  flings  his  challenge  loud  upon  the  wind. 

Shammah. 

Then  let  the  wind  it  answer ;  what  care  we  ? 
Can  caring  crop  a  cubit  from  his  stature  ? 

David. 
Of  whom  thus  speak  they  ? 

Job. 

Of  a  giant,  whom, 
When  thou  'rt  returned  unto  Beth-lehem's  maids, 


-i-ln^- 


SAUL. 


i.;l 


Thou  mayst  declare  to  them  thtit  thou  hast  seen, 

And  say  what  grim  foes  soldiers  do  encounter. 

Goliath  is  his  name,  and  forth  he  comes, 

Each  day,  to  stalk  like  horror  in  the  vale. 

He  is  so  tall  he  'd  reach  thee  from  a  tree, 

And  stronger  he  than  a  rhinoceros  ; 

Nor  looks  the  hyena  or  the  wolf  more  cruel. 

He  surely  must  have  been  begot  in  blood,  — 

Some  ever-angry  tigress  suckled  him  ; 

For  when  he  looks  about  him,  unaroused. 

So  fierce  and  $ery  is  his  gaze,  his  eyes 

Are  like  unto  a  turret's  windows,  which, 

While  flaming  fagots  crackle  on  the  hearth,  * 

Glare  with  reflection  of  the  ruddy  light 

That  dances  on  the  walls.  —  None  dare  approach  him. 

Listen,  and  tell  me  what  ihou  think'st  thou  hearest. 

For  what  thou  'It  hear  will  not  appear  like  man's  : 

Indeed,  't  is  said,  no  woman  gave  him  birth ; 

But  that  a  sea-squall  bore  him,  and  the  big 

And  billow-breasting  Dagon  was  his  father, 

David. 
I  hear  a  sound  like  that  of  distant  thunder. 

Job. 

A  thunderer  he  is  ;  and  his  huge  mail. 
Whene'er  he  moveth,  is  a  heaven  of  lightnings. 
Listen  again  and  tell  me  what 's  the  tune. 

David. 

'T  is  lower,  and  upcometh  with  a  sound 
Like  the  weak  moan  of  overwearied  beeves. 

Job. 
*T  is  said  he  eats  a  beeve  each  day  to  dinner. 


^inL'l!S*'fli'i.'iJSll!i!^ 


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192 


SAUL. 


i 


David. 

But  now  't  is  swelling  like  the  noise  of  torrents, 

Even  as  I  have  often  stood  and  heard  them, 

When,  swollen  with  rain,  they  've  down  the  gullies  gal* 

loped 
To  plunge  themselves  in  Jordan. 


How  is  't  now  ? 


Job. 

David. 

Dying  away,  like  the  receding  wheels     , 

Of  chariots  o'er  the  valley.     Let  me  see 

This  giant :  come,  and  show  me  him  near  hand. 

Job. 

Not  nearer  than  this  top  :  —  I  dare  not  venture 
Upon  the  crags,  lest,  chancing  topple  from  them. 
He  should  devour  me,  as  a  wild  beast  would 
A  tame  one  in  its  den. 

David. 

Art  thou  so  faint  ? 

Job. 

All  faint  before  him  ;  for,  where'er  he  comes, 
Our  men  from  thence  retire.  —  I  wonder  thou. 
Even  at  Beth-lehem,  hadst  not  heard  of  him  ; 
For  he  this  forty  days  hath  challenged  Israel, 
To  send  him  down  her  champion.     Again 
He  is  defying  us. 

Goliath  {down  in  the  valley). 

Away  with  you, 
You  pale,  retreating  cowards.     Hear  me  now. 
Why  do  you  set  your  battle  in  array  ? 
Am  I  not  a  Philistine  ?     Are  not  you 


III 


liiliL 


L  .    1:, 


SAUL.  iQ 

Soldiers  of  Saul  ?     Bring  here  a  man  to  fight  nac  ; 
And  if  he  kill  me,  then  will  we  serve  you  ; 
Should  I  kill  him,  then  you  shall  serve  Philistia. 

David. 
What  says  the  King  to  this  ? 

Job. 

He  doth  declare  that  whosoe'er  shall  slay 
This  proud,  insulting  creature  he  '11  enrich  ; 
Give  unto  him-his  daughter,  too,  in  marriage, 
And  make  his  family  free.  —  But  who  'd  descend 
For  riches,  wife,  or  freedom  to  the  dead  ? 

David. 

O,  dead  to  all,  to  freedom  dead  indeed, 

When  fear  of  death  commends  to  shameful  life, 

And  Dagon  dares  the  God  of  Israel! 

0  Israel,  where  is  thy  valor !     Then 
Has  none  yet  offered  move  from  us  this  shame  ? 
For  what  is  this  uncircumcised  one, 
That  he  for  forty  days  hath  been  allowed 
Defy  the  army  of  the  Living  God  ! 
Eliab,  why  dost  seem  to  stand  appalled. 
Thou  and  thy  brethren,  and  the  host  of  Saul  ? 

Eliab  {roughly). 

Why  art  thou  come  down  hither  ?  and  with  whom 
Hast  left  in  the  wilderness  yonder  those  few  sheep  ? 

1  know  thy  vanity  and  carelessness  ; 
Thou  art  come  hither  but  to  see  the  fight. 

David. 

To  see  the  fight  I  come  not ;  but  see  thee  !  — 
But  who  knows  what  he  cometh  forth  to  do  ? 

4  M 


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T94 


SA  UL. 


Who  can,  at  parting,  picture  his  return  ? 

The  way  to  war  starts  from  the  path  of  peace, 

As  I  so  lately  leaving  Bcth-lehcm  — 

Perchance  for  purpose  that  I  did  not  know  — 

To  conquer  this  grim  creature  have  come  here. 

Nay,  do  not  threaten  me  with  that  fierce  frown. 

Why  shouldst  thou  scowl  upon  me  ?    Smooth  thy  brow. 

Do  I  offend  thee  with  my  presence  ?  or  have  I 

Spoken  indignantly  without  a  cause  ? 

To  fight  with  this  Philistine  I  am  willing  ; 

And  let  the  King  straight  know  it.  u 

FlFIH    SOT.DIKR. 

My  brave  youth, 
Thy  words  are  folly's.     Why,  our  stoutest  soldiers 
Shrink  from  him  :  he  would  trample  thee  to  death  ; 
Yea,  crush  thee  as  a  beetle  'neath  his  feet. 

David. 

He  cannot  crush  him  whom  the  Lord  upholds. 
Will  no  one  tell  the  King  what  I  have  said  ? 
None  take  me  to  his  tent  ?     {Laughter) 

Third  Soldier. 

1  '11  take  thee,  boy  ; 
But  fear  he  '11  think  thou  comest  to  insult  him. 

[Exit  along  with  David. 

First  Soldier. 

This  is  the  very  stripling  that  at  court. 

With  harpen  strains,  allayed  the  King's  distemper. 

Second  Soldier. 

Nay,  he  has  caught  it ;  he  is  mad  :  —  come  on  ! 
Come  on,  come  on !  all  ye  who  love  a.  joke. 

[Exeunt  all  the  Soldiers. 


If     r 


SAUL.  ,95 

Eliab. 

Now  shall  we  be  the  scoff  of  Belh-lehem  ! 
Why  has  my  old,  fond  father  let  him  come  ? 
Let 's  go  and  see  him  now  dismissed  ashamed. 

Aminadab. 
For  this  our  foolish  father  should  be  blamed. 

Shammah. 

Grieve  not :  Saul  will  not  send  him  ;  and  our  dauntless 
David,  by  this  fond  freak,  —  howe'er  it  end,  — 
Will  have  his  saucy,  soaring  spirit  tamed. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE    III. 

Inferior  of  the  royal  tent,     Saul  seated,  with  Officers  about 
him.     Enter  Ahner,  leading  David. 

-  Abner. 

Your  Majesty,  behold  your  servant  David  ; 

The  same  who,  with  his  harp's  mild  ministration, 

Did  exorcise  your  spirit's  gloomy  rage, 

And  purge  to  cheerful  health  your  dull-eyed  grief       . 

You  know  him  not ;  look  on  him,  for  't  is  he. 

Saul. 

I  know  him  now  :  he 's  changed.    Come  near  me,  David. 

(David  advances,  and  the  King  takes  hint  by  the  hand.) 

My  soother,  my  young  friend,  my  shepherd  boy. 
Who  drew  me  from  the  witchery  of  the  moon. 
How  hast  thou  fared  since  I  beheld  thee  last  ? 
Thy  father,  is  he  well  .-*  thy  mother  too  .'* 


-'  i 


196 


SAr/A. 


Did  she  not  weep  when  thou  dc{);irtcclst  from  her, 

And  flung  away  the  crook  to  grasp  the  sw^rd  ? 

Now  is  the  time  to  be  a  soldier :  art 

Thou  come  for  that,  or,  with  thy  suasive  liarp, 

To  turn  our  warfare's  dissonance  to  chords  ? 

Harsh  is  the  music  of  these  days  of  force, 

And  rough  as  is  their  labor.     The  loud  bugle, 

And  the  hard-rolling  drum,  and  clashing  cymbals, 

Now  reign  the  lords  o'  the  air.     Those  crises,  David, 

Bring  with  them  their  own  music,  as  do  storms 

Their  thunders,  —  no  inspiring  hymn,  no  psalm, 

The  handmaid  to  devotion  ;  no  winged  fugue, 

No  song,  no  merry  catch,  no  madrigal ; 

No  tender  strophe,  nor  solemn  canon  ;  —  but 

The  sharp  alarm,  the  call  to  boot  and  saddle. 

The  big  hurrah  o'  the  onset,  and  the  irregular 

Chorus  on  the  fire-spitting  steel  ;  all  of  them  sounds 

Rousing  to  the  already  bated  spirit, 

But  to  nice  ears  offensive.     Thou  dost  see 

We  have  no  time  at  present  for  vagaries, 

Nor  leisure  for  soul  sickness  :  — but  inforrrt  us 

What  brings  thee  from  thy  native  Beth-lehem. 

If  thou  wouldst  be  a  soldier,  thou  art  welcome : 

Yea,  whatsoever  be  thy  wish  or  errand. 

Peace  and  my  heart's  best  favor  be  upon  thee. , . 

David. 

The  kindness  of  your  Majesty  o'ercomes  me. 
Piled  upon  memories  of  your  former  goodness 
My  gratitude  is  greater  than  my  words. 
Then  let  a  deed  more  eloquent  speak  for  me. 
Vouchsafe  unto  me  yet  one  favor  more  ; 
That,  like  a  gamester,  staking  it,  I  may 
Win,  of  one  whom  you  hate,  so  great  a  sum, 


^1 


SAUL,  ^97 

Th;it  I  may  you  in  some  small  part  repay, 
In  coin  of  service,  and  yet  owe  you  more, 
Of  love  and  gratitude,  than  now  I  do. 
C'.rant  I  may  cope  with  this  vain  giant,  who, 
With  haughty  challenge,  puts  your  host  to  shame. 

Saul. 

My  ardent,  fond,  uncalculating  boy, 

Thou  know'st  not  what  thou  ask'st      His  breath  alone 

Would  sweep  thee  from  his  path  •  he  would  disdain  thee, 

As  doth  the  lion  carnon  disdain  ; 

He  would  not  fence  with  thee,  but  on  thee  seize, 

And  crumple  up  thy  tende*  ■  nme  like  \'  per  ; 

Or  lift  thee  wiih  the  engine  of  his  avms, 

And  on  the  grcmd,  close  to  hi  -  n,.,,il-clad  feet, 

Dash  out  thy  brains.  —  No,  no  ,  thy  fsither  never 

Shall  say  that  we  to  slaughter  sent  liis  son. 


t'  1'     ■• 


Yet  hear  me  speak. 


David. 


Saul. 

Thou  speak'st  not  wisely,  David. 
He  with  his  spear,  so  like  a  weaver's  beam, 
Would  stop  the  dancing  shuttle  of  thy  life. 
Nay,  stand  not  thus  imploring  with  thine  eye  : 
To  send  thee  doomed  forth  to  contend  with  him. 
The  fatal  mockery  'd  ever  on  my  conscience 
Sit  waste  with  grief,  and  dash  my  happiest  moments  ; 
Yea,  ghastly,  gibber  to  me  in  my  sleep. 
That  I  had  murdered  thee.     My  strongest  captains 
Dare  not  encounter  him  ;  then  dream  not  thou 
To  kill  him,  or  to  bring  him  to  me  bound  ; 
Thou  but  a  stripling  uninured  to  arms, 


198 


SAUL. 


Whilst  he  is  more  than  man,  and  has  been  trained 
Up  from  his  youth  to  do  heroic  deeds. 

David. 

Y6ur  gracious  Majesty,  forgive  me,  but, 

Thus  kneehng,  I  must  urge  my  suit.     O,  hear  me ! 

You  know  me  not  yet  fully,  deeming  me 

Only  prevailing  with  the  harp  and  crook  ; 

Yet  once,  when  I  my  father's  sheep  was  keeping, 

There  came  a  lion  from  the  wilderness, 

And  unawares  took  from  my  flock  a  lamb. 

Which,  soon  as  I  perceived,  I  chased  the  robber, 

And  the  lamb  rescued  from  his  jaws  ;  and  when 

He  turned  on  me,  I  seized  him  by  the  beard 

And  killed  him  :   I  have  also  slain  a  bear  ;  . 

And  this  Philistine  soon  shall  be  like  them. 

Fear  not  for  me,  your  Majesty  ;  I  know 

The  Lord  who  saved  me  from  those  savage  beasts 

Will  likewise  from  this  giant. 

i  i  ■ 
Saul. 

But,  my  child, 
The  lion  and  the  bear  were  but  as  kids 
Compared  with  this  Philistine! 

David. 

It  was  God 

Who  made  the  strength  of  each  as  nothing  to  me ; 

Who  made  the  lion's  armed,  distended  jaws, 

And  shaggy  throat,  but  fiital  to  himself; 

For  't  was  thereby  I  caught  him,  and  him  pressed 

In  such  an  irresistible  embrace, 

That  soon  he  rolled  his  dull,  protruding  eyes, 

And  fixed  them  upwards  on  my  face  in  death. 


SA  UL. 


199 


Saul. 

Go,  go ;  and  may  God  too  go  with  thee  ;  but 

I  trow  that  I  shall  see  thy  face  no  more  ! 

He  who  assisted  thee  to  do  these  deeds 

May  thee  assist  to  do  one  greater.     Go ; 

I  shall  await  the  issue  here  in  horror. 

Abner,  wilt  see  him  clothed  with  mine  own  armor? 

\Exit  Abner  and  David. 
{Aside.)  My  heart  misgives  me.   'T  is  not  yet  too  late  ;  — 
But  what  if  Heaven  have  sent  him  ?     He  shall  go. 
{Aloud.)  Now  each  retire  to  solitude  and  pray 
For  that  heroic  boy.     He  who  no  faith 
Has  got  to  wing  and  plume  his  dart  of  prayer, 
May  groan  a  low  petition,  that  some  angel, 
Walking  the  earth,  may  shoot  it  unto  heaven. 
At  once  let 's  separate,  and  wait  the  event, 
Each  in  the  company  of  his  own  suspense. 

[Exeunt  the  Officers. 
I  'm  full  of  thoughts  that  will  not  now  be  uttered. 

[Disappears  in  the  shadow  of  the  tent. 


SCENE    IV. 

A  part  of  the  camp  near  the  royal  tent.     A  Sentinel  pacing. 
Enter  Ilebrezu  Soldiers. 


Is  he  retired  yet  ? 


First  Soldier. 

Sentinel. 
Who? 

First  Soldier. 

The  giant. 


ii'Mi-^ii  -f-mfcii^ii  iitif  i'-" 


200 


I- 11  It 


S    ': 


SAUL. 


Sentinel. 


No. 

He  *s  seated  on  the  ground  ;  and  as  a  tawny 
Lion,  just  waked,  and  weltering  in  night's  dew, 
Shines  in  the  morning's  beam,  so  he  in  noon's. 
Why  does  he  not  return  ? 


The  prey. 


First  Soldier. 

Because  he  smells 

Sentinel. 
What  prey  ? 


First  Soldier. 

A  youth  of  Beth-lehem, 
Who  goes  to  him  to  be  killed. 

Sentinel. 

What  dost  thou  mean  ? 

First  Soldier.       1 

I  mean  just  as  I  say,  —  a  Beth-lehem  boy, 
A  crazy  lad,  who  goes  to  him  to  be  killed. 
The  King  put  on  him  his  own  armor ;  but 
It  was  too  large  and  heavy  for  him,  so. 
Naked  and  armed  with  but  a  sling  he  goes, 
And  stones  from  yonder  brook.  ' 

Sentinel. 

Was  ever  such 
A  duel  ? 

Second  Soldier. 

See,  our  serried  soldiers  stand 
Breathless  ana  fixed  like  statues,  or  as  woods 
Sleeping  in  the  brief  calm  before  the  storm. 
Our  champion  is  hidden,  but  he  winds 


SAUL. 


201 


Adown  the  steep  hillside,  for  thither  turn 
The  giant's  angry  eyes.     Lo,  how  he  watches  ! 
And  now  he  rises  up  ;  —  and  now  again 
He  's  seated :  —  hearken  !  he  is  calling  on 
His  visitor. 

Third  Soldier. 
Alas,  he'll  visit  us 
No  more  !    The  king  is  much  to  blame  in  this  ;  — 
To  let  a  stripling  go  where  powerful  men 
Declined  to  venture.  —  Listen  how  the  giant 
Growls,  less  in  rage  than  in  his  disappointment 
At  such  a  trifling  quarry. 

{Enter  a  second  party  ^Soldiers,  one  after  another,  and  in  a 

riotous  manner.) 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

For  us  room  ! 
We  're  coming  to  see  the  races. 

A  Soldier  of  the  First  Party. 

Fool,  what  races  ? 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 
Why,  'twixt  the  giant  and  a  shepherd  boy  : 
The  boy  will  run,  and  the  giant  after  him  ; 
And  that 's  a  race,  if  both  be  in  good  earnest. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 
A  race  ?     To  be  sure  ;  a  very  dashing  race  ; 
Where  is  my  httle  Three-to-one  ?    Who  bets 
With  me  .''    Who  wagers  with  me  that  the  shepherd 
Will  not  take  three  strides  to  the  giant's  one  ? 

Sentinel. 
How  canst  thou  jest  at  such  a  time  as  this, 
When  yon  brave  youth  thus  marches  to  his  end  ? 
9» 


_-:i.i...i....-*-i^ 


t. 


!3 


H 


II 


4  ' 

i: 


I 


202 


5-//  i/Z. 


Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

I  know  the  fool  is  going  to  be  eaten 
(Unless  we  are  indeed  to  have  a  race). 
Well,  he  '11  eat  tender,  with  but  little  cooking  : 
He  might  as  well  at  once  himself  surrender, 
And  stand  before  the  mailed  giant  in  the  sun, 
And  so  in  his  reflected  beam  be  cooked. 
Ciad  !  but  the  giant  must  walk  round  him  then, 
For  who  the  devil  dare  stand  to  turn  the  spit? 

Sentinel.  " 

May  devils  turn  thee  on  their  spit  beneath, 
And  at  thy  cries  no  fiend  make  intercession  I 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 
I  '11  call  on  thee  :  I  know  thou  'It  be  in  hearing. 

A  Soldier  of  the  First  Party. 

Hear  how  the  Gath-hound  growls  because  the  King 
Hath  flung  before  his  paws  so  small  a  bone. 

Goliath  {down  in  the  valley). 

Is  this,  then,  Israel's  champion  !     Ha,  ha,  ha ! 
Blast  him,  ye  Wind-gods,  and  ye  Powers  who  waft 
Phoenicia's  fleets  :  a  murrain  blow  for  me 
Upon  this  whelp.     Lame  him,  ye  thunderbolts, 
That  rend  our  masts  ;  and  through  his  entrails  pour 
Wherewith  is  snapped  our  rigging.     Shall  I  touch  him 
With  arms  that  are  the  semblance  of  the  gods'  ? 
Bring  me  an  arrow  of  some  babe  of  Gath  ! 
Audacious  trespasser,  begone  ;  avaunt  1 
Am  I  a  dog,  that  thus  thou  com'st  with  staves  ? 
May  Dagon  smite  thee,  spawn  of  some  low  churl  ! 
Thou  cattle-driver,  back,  and  get  thee  gored 
To  death  by  thine  own  herd.    No  nearer  me  ; 


SAUL. 


!03 


Presume  no  fartlier  ;  dost  thou  hear  mc,  boy  ? 
Back  to  thy  king,  and  bid  him  come  himself, 
Or  send  a  man  to  meet  me.     Now,  by  my  gods, 
Where  have  they  found  this  dumb,  approaching  fool  ? 
Hear  me,  thou  thoughtless  idiot ;  thou  young 
And  Hstlcss  strayer,  get  from  these  dread  bounds, 
O'er  which,  to  every  Hebrew,  I  have  hung 
Death's  bloody  banner.     Still  approaching  ?     Then 
I  '11  let  thee  walk  beneath  destruction's  archway, 
Into  the  vaulted  and  sepulchral  den 
Where  lie  all  thy  forerunners.     Come,  boy,  come  ; 
Come  unto  me,  and,  with  my  naked  hands, 
I  joint  from  joint  will  rend  thee,  and  thy  flesh 
Give  to  the  birds  and  beasts  to  be  their  food. 


Sentinel. 
May  Heaven  forefend  ! 

Second  Soldier. 

Hist,  for  the  shepherd 's  answering. 

David  {heard). 

O  boastful  giant,  impious  son  of  Gath, 

Trust  not  too  much  in  thy  prodigious  strength  ; 

Nor  in  thine  armor,  that,  till  now,  has  been 

Invulnerable  unto  mortal  dint : 

Nor  scorn  me  for  my  youth  and  seeming  weakness. 

Complete  in  arms  and  covered  o'er  with  mail, 

Thou  com'st  to  me  ;  but  I  come  unto  thee 

In  name  of  Him  who  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 

The  God  of  Israel's  armies,  whom  thou  hast 

Defied.     He  will  deliver  thee  this  day 

Into  my  hand  ;  and  I  will  take  from  thee 

Thy  head,  and  give  your  army's  carcasses 


I 

i 


h.  1 

i 

h  ■■ 

I'  " ' 


".^ 


I; 


2C4 


SAUL. 


To  the  wild  beasts  and  birds,  that  all  may  know 
There  is  indeed  a  God  in  Israel, 
And  that  this  is  his  battle. 

First  Soldier. 

Bravo,  boy ! 

Sentinel. 
See  ;  now  the  monster  rises  in  his  rage. 

Second  Soldier. 
He  needs  not  stride  so  ;  for  the  youth  retreats  not. 

Sentinel. 

Now  let  us  all  send  prayer  apace  to  Heaven, 
Cry  loudly  for  our  country's  champion. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

I  pray  that  he  may  now  begin  the  race. 
I  came  to  see  a  very  dashing  race, 
But,  if  the  shepherd  not  bestir  himself,      ' 
I  shall  see  but  his  silly  brains  dashed  out. 

Third  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 
See  how  the  giant's  nostrils  puff  forth  vapor. 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

Ay,  it  is  well  the  giant  gives  some  warning : 

The  shepherd  's  waking,  for  he  smells  the  morning. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

The  shepherd  's  now  got  one  hand  out  of  bed  ; 

Will  he  with  the  other,  think'st  thou,  scratch  his  head  ? 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 
I  think  his  very  ears  lie  back  with  fright. 


205 


SAUL. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

He  fancies  some  one 's  robbed  him  in  the  night : 
I  see  he  does  misdoubt  his  very  garments, 
P'or  he  is  groping  in  them. 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

'T  is  his  scrip  : 
Some  small  coin  thence  may  have  given  him  the  slip. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

I  hope  not ;  for  a  stone  's  a  serious  thing, 
When  all  one  has  are  stones  and  one  poor  sling. 

A  Soldier  of  the  First  Party. 
With  the  giant's  sword  his  blood  will  soon  be  spilt ! 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

Nonsense  !  he  '11  but  get  pummelled  with  the  hilt. 
See,  see !  he  runs  to  meet  his  foul-mouthed  foe. 

A  Soldier  of  First  Party. 

O,  murder  foul  must  be  the  coming  deed ! 
Nay,  't  is  a  sight  too  sad  to  look  upon, 
Rushing  right  into  gaping  ruin's  jaws'  — 
Ay,  whirl  thy  sling,  poor  wretch,  —  ay,  leap  along, 
A-toward  Death's  fist,  like  to  a  bounding  ball ! 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

No,  not  at  ball,  no,  not  at  ball  he  's  playing  : 
He  means  to  play  at  leapfrog  with  the  giant. 
See  how  he  vaults.     Ha,  ha  !     I  've  seen  a  cat 
Go  skipping  over  red-hot  burning  bricks, 
A  cat  go  skipping  o'er  hot  limekiln  stones, 
And  stones  sent  skipping  o'er  a  frozen  pool ; 


i 


I 


fi^^:  i 


206 


.9/^67:. 


liijt  never  saw  a  cat  in  Hebrewdom, 

Nor  stone  o'er  pool,  appear  more  capersome. 

Sentinel. 
Now  may  the  stone  be  under  God's  great  guidance  ! 

All. 
Amen  I 

Sentinel. 

Behold  !  the  giant  reels  !  he  falls !  — 
O,  let  us  fall  too  ;  fall  upon  our  knees  ! 
We  thank  thee.  Lord,  we  thank  thee,  Israel's  God  I 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

I  had  no  time  to  ejaculate,  amen  : 

But  now,  amen,  though  murmured  in  amazement. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

Astonishment  hath  stunned  me  !     No  't  is  not 
My  jest-preceded  prayer  that 's  answered  thus. 
Unto  this  tune  I  've  been  but  discord.     Comrad^ 
That  stone  hit  me  too  when  it  struck  the  giant. 

A  Soldier. 

Say  not  again  that  aught  is  strange  :  for  now, 
Now  shall  the  sparrow  pierce  the  eagle  ! 


Now 


Another  Soldier. 
The  infant  put  to  flight  the  arm^d  man. 

Sentinel. 

O,  what  are  arms,  when  turned  aside  by  God  ; 
What  are  they  not,  when  in  God-guided  hands  ! 
This  is  the  doing  of  Jehovah's  arm  ; 
Yon  shepherd  is  his  angel,  fair  yet  dread. 


SAUL,  207 

A  Soldier. 
He  is  a  skyey  cherub. 

{A  great  shout  heard.) 

Hark !  the  sky 
Is  rent :  the  army  shouts  with  might  and  main 
At  the  great  spectacle  of  the  giant  slain. 
Let  us  assist  them,  and  upsend  a  blast, 
That,  from  this  earth  reverberating  driven, 
Shall  waken  whirlwinds  on  the  fields  of  heaven. 

(They  all  cheer.) 

Another  Soldier. 

Thus  ends  this  bugbear  that,  for  forty  days, 
Has  kept  us  in  shame's  vexing  wilderness. 

Another  Soldier. 

Surely  the  days  of  miracles  return  ! 

For  who  had  counted  that  this  youth  could  sling 

A  pebble  through  that  cincture  of  thick  brass  ? 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

None  could  have  done  it  but  that  cat-o'-mountain. 
See  how  he's  mounted  on  the  giant's  body. 
O,  most  indomitable,  nut-cracking  shepherd, 
He  has  cracked  the  giant's  nut,  and,  lo,  upon  him 
He  stands,  with  the  Big-one's  well-begotten  sword, 
Going  to  extract  his  kernel. 

First  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

Ah,  thou  wag, 
The  season  of  thy  seriousness  is  brief, 
Like  summer  on  the  top  of  Lebanon. 
Thou  wilt  be  grave  when  in  the  grave ;  —  when  Death 
Hath  laid  thee  as  the  shepherd 's  laid  the  giant. 
{Another great  shout  heard.) 


111! 
1 


208 


SAUL. 


Sentinel. 

Again  the  army  shouts,  and  now,  behold  1 
The  nimble  shepherd,  like  swift-footed  Death, 
Is  standing  on  the  carcass  of  the  giant, 
That  lies  like  one  of  their  own  stranded  hulls, 
While  the  rude  blows  of  his  own  scymitar 
Assail  him  ;  as  the  yet  stout,  lashing  storm 
Beats  on  the  wreck  that  shall  no  more  go  seaward. 

A  Soldier. 

His  head  is  off;  and  that  same  tongue  of  his, 
That  long  hath  uttered  threats  too  great  for  mortals, 
Shall  brag  no  more  forever.     Silently  he  died  ; 
Or  the  great  groan  with  which  his  savage  spirit 
Left  the  huge  body,  was  o'erwhelmed  and  drowned 
In  the  clangor  of  his  faUing. 

Second  Soldier  of  Second  Party. 

Little  thanks : 
He  surely  made  quite  noise  enough  when  living ; 
For  not  a  man  hath  heard  his  proper  tongue 
For  half  the  livelong  day  this  month  or  more  ; 
Either  by  reason  of  the  giant's  brawling, 
Or  brawls  concerning  him  amongst  ourselves. 
I  would  as  lief  live  near  the  boiling  ocean, 
Or  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  cataract, 
Ay,  or  in  hearing  of  a  brace  of  mothers 
From  morn  till  evening  chiding  o'er  their  brats, 
As  be  compelled  again  to  let  my  ears 
Be  made  the  thoroughfares  unto  his  bluster. 
I  always  hate  a  man  whose  voice  is  loud  ; 
I  hate  a  man  whose  mien 's  imperious,  — 
Despise  the  soul  that  stalks  in  panoply  ; 


SAUL. 


209 


And  would  much  r.ithcr  meet  a  ;.',li()st  by  niy;hl 

Than  sec,  a  mile  off,  orxKt  of  those  by  day. 

I  always  did  suspect,  when  I  beheld 

Such  men  approaching  cap-a-pie,  that  they 

Were  cowards  or  else  bullies  ;  and  this  giant 

Hath  in  this  guess  confirmed  me.     Break  his  bones  I 

Three  several  times  have  I  been  nigh  to  choking, 

From  being  startled,  when  in  earnest  dining. 

With  sound  like  to  a  coming  avalanche. 

When  it  has  only  been  his  Ugliness, 

Vomiting  insolence  upon  our  host, 

As  he  descended  down  yon  mountain's  side. 

The  heedless  hound  !     Our  forces  have  grown  lean 

From  being  stayed  by  him  amidst  their  meals ; 

Him  whose  main  use  was  only  to  devour. 

And  eat  us  up  like  a  huge  caterpillar, 

And  spread  a  locust  famine  o'er  the  land. 

On  which  like  a  huge  locust  now  he  lies. 

Why  did  he  not  He  there  a  month  ago  } 

I  do  assert  that  we  have  been  abused  ; 

I  say  this  giant  was  a  mere  marsh-fire, 

A  bugaboo,  a  come-up-salt-flood  meteor, 

A  down-fallen  comet,  a  hither-shotten  star, 

A  mere  mock-sun,  a  thing  as  false  as  moonshine  ; 

In  short,  a  mere  audacious  will-o'-wisp, 

A  mere  innocuous,  polished  jack-o'-lantern. 

Sentinel. 
How  easy  seems  the  deed  when  once  't  is  done !  — 
Peace,  and  prepare  thee  for  the  coming  fray  : 
It  grows  yet  louder  ;  —  't  is  its  thunder's  bray. 
(A  shout  much  greater  than  before,  and  mingled  with  alarums. ) 

Hear,  the  clashed  cymbals,  and  the  rattling  drum. 
With  the  imperious  trumpet,  bid  us  come 


H  i 

i    !•    ;l 


111! 


i^'    ■ 


li  i', 


.:  : 


i 


'i 

i 


210 


6VK7.. 


'lo  arms  ;  and,  dolefully,  a  murinurin.j  wail 
From  l^phis-dammim  sweeps  across  the  vale. 
Come  Saul  and  Abncr  hast'nin^  ;  let 's  away. 
Yon  sun  will  set  upon  a  bloody  day. 

\^Ex£U)it ;  and  oitcr  the  IviNO  and  Abnfr  rapidly^  t\s 
former  sneaking. 

Saul. 

Now  that  their  hearts  arc  up,  lead  down  thy  men 

Into  the  vale,  which  soon  shall  roll  in  blood  ; 

Unless  the  foe,  astonished  and  alarmed, 

Shall  keep  their  heij^hts,  which,  if  they  do,  we  '11  stomi, 

In  spite  of  storm  of  rollin<^  stones  and  darts. 

And  drive  them   homewards,    should   they  turn  their 

backs ; 
If  not,  provoked  and  hurried  to  yon  brink, 
The  sweeping  yawn  shall  be  to  them  their  grave. 

Abner. 

I  never  saw  our  army's  heart  so  swell. 

I  do  believe  (such  ecstasy  has  risen) 

That  they  this  hour  would  strive  to  carry  hell. 

And,  sacrilegious,  storm  the  heights  of  heaven.     [Exit. 

Saul. 

Too  much  reflection  would  arrest  the  world. 
Why  should  we  not  attack  them  ?    We  '11  go  down 
Into  the  perilous  vale. 

{Another great  shout  heard.) 

The  changeful  souls  ! 
Because  one  man  appeared  whom  no  one  man 
Dared  cope  with,  why,  forsooth,  more  than  a  month 
They  stood  immovable  as  stupid  stocks  :  — 
Now,  when  that  one  man  's  dead,  and,  by  a  youth, 


SAUL. 


211 


IJcfore  their  eyes,  shown  to  be  vuhicr.ibli', 
There  is  no  holdini'  them  ;  but  thcv  nuist  rush 
rcll-mell  into  the  dangerous  vale,  and  thence 
l\Iount,  all  disordered,  up  the  adverse  steep. 
Nor  wait  for  their  commanders.     I  have  known, 
Ere  this,  a  mere  chimera  stop  brave  men 
As  might  a  wall  of  brass,  when,  to  their  ardor 
Unchecked  by  fear,  realities  were  less 
Ihan  viewless  fences  of  swift-yielding  air. 

\_Exit ;  the  noise  of  the  army  increases,  and  then  dies  away. 


SCENE    V. 
Within  sight  of  Ekron.      Time,  evenirg  of  the  same  day. 

Saul  {entering,  and  sheathing  his  su-'^rd). 

There,  take  thine  insult  back,  thou  proud  Philistia ; 

Take  it  through  Ekron's  gates,  besmeared  and  bloody. 

Art  thou  not  satisfied  ?     Art  restless  yet  ? 

Come  to  the  field  again  of  Ephis-dammim, 

For  thou  mayst  easily  find  it  by  the  clew 

Of  thine  own  dead  and  wounded.     Lo,  they  stretch 

Hence  to  the  tented  field,  and  all  the  road 

Is  rendered  vocal  by  their  sore  distress. 

[Enter  Abner.) 
Brave  Abner,  my  true  cousin ! 

Abner. 

Is  my  liege 
Unhurt  ?     Is  whole  my  great  Commander  ?     O, 
Too  rash  this  day  hath  been  my  kinsman  Saul. 
Thou  far  too  reckless  of  thy  life  hast  been, 
And,  with  unwarrantable  hardihood, 


i 

i 


II 


I    1 
n  ■ 

i  i  ; 


2T2 


SA  UL. 


From  the  meridian  till  eve  hast  soiiL^^ht 
The  hottest  fight,  and  over  Israel's  borders 
Hurried  the  obsequious  war,  that  did  so  lately 
Sit  heavy  at  her  heart. 

Saul. 

O'er  Elah's  vale 
Too  long  the  bold  Sea-Eagle  brooding  sat. 

Abner. 

But  suddenly  it  rose,  pierced  with  one  arrow,   J 
That  was  the  prelude  to  a  myriad  others 
Which  fatally  o'crtook  it.     Cousin,  cousin. 
Victory  still  rests  upon  our  house  ;  or,  rather, 
Is  thither  wafted  from  the  sky  by  some 
Vicarious  angel,  who,  in  Samuel's  stead. 
Conducts  her  down  and  gives  her  to  thy  hand. 
Still  to  assure  thee  of  the  doubted  throne. 
Fear  not  henceforward,  my  anointed  sovereign. 

Saul. 

Fear  not  for  me  ;  my  faithful  captain,  fear  not ; 
But  let  the  signal  blast  be  loudly  blown 
That  calls  our  wearied  men  from  the  pursuit. 

[£■;(;/■/ Abner. 
I  '11  still  extinguish  fears,  as  men  young  fires 
Extinguish,  e'en  by  stifling  them  ;  for  fears, 
Like  fires,  are  things  which  are,  yet  should  not  be, 
Amongst  the  ills  that  light  on  honest  men. 

\Exit ;  and  the  recall  begins  to  sound,  and  soldiers  pass 
over  the  stage  with  appearance  of  great  fatigue. 

First  Soldier. 

Ne'er  welcomer  than  now  was  that  recall, 
So  tired  am  I  with  slaying  and  pursuing. 


fass 


SAUL.  2T3 

Second  Soldier. 

Thrice  have  I  fallen  myself  in  felling  the  foe  ; 
And  twice  I  've  lain  me  down  awhile  to  rest, 
Amongst  the  dying  and  the  dead  PhiUstines. 

Third  Soldier, 

Would  that  we  might  bivouac  upon  the  ground  ; 
And  not  hie  homewards,  as  't  is  whispered  round. 

[Exeunt ;  and  re-enter  Saul  along  with  an  Officer. 

Saul. 

Bid  some  to  minister  to  ours  who  lie 

In  doubtful  plight  'twixt  life  and  death  ;  and  see 

That  all  our  wounded  be  sent  after  us  ; 

For,  after  some  refreshment,  we  shall  thread 

Our  way,  by  starlight,  home  amongst  the  dead. 

[Exit  Offickr. 
'Twill  be  a  weary  road,  and  slippery  ; 

For  the  waterspout  that  came  up  from  the  sea 

Hath  poured  amain  its  rent  and  shattered  volume, 

And  drenched  the  route  with  blood. 

(Enter  an  Aide-de-camp.) 

How  now,  what  news  ? 

Aide-de-camp. 

Your  Majesty,  the  chase  has  stayed  itself. 
The  foe  exists  no  more,  except  in  Ekron  ; 
Where  he  has  sought  a  shelter  and  a  refuge, 
Wasted  and  worried  by  this  fearful  hunting. 

Saul. 

There  let  him  lie  and  ease  his  panting  sides. 

[Exit  Aide-de-camp. 
To  hunt  and  to  be  hunted  make  existence  ; 
For  we  are  all  or  chasers  or  the  chased  ; 


214 


SAUL. 


And  some  weak,  luckless  wretches  ever  seem 

Flying  before  the  hounds  of  circumstance, 

Adown  the  windy  gullies  of  this  life  ; 

Till,  toppling  over  death's  uncertain  verge, 

We  see  of  them  no  more.     Surely  this  day 

Has  been  a  wild  epitome  of  life  I 

For  life  is  merely  a  protracted  chase ; 

Yea,  life  itself  is  only  a  long  day, 

And  death  arrives  like  sundown.     Lo,  the  sun 

Lies  down  i'  the  waters,  and  the  murky  moon 

Out  of  the  east  sails  sullen.     'T  is  the  hour     ,, 

Of  fear  and  melancholy,  when  the  soul 

Hangs   poised,    with    folded   wings,   'tween    day    and 

night. 
Now  grow  I  sad  as  evening,  yea,  as  night ; 
And  boding  cometh,  like  eve's  mournful  bird. 
Across  my  soul's  lea,  doleful  to  my  heart. 
Therein,  alas !  now  new  misgivings  lise 
At  Abner's  well-meant  but  superfluous  words, 
That,  lieu  of  stilling  fears  with  sense  of  safety, 
Stir  doubts  of  danger  ;  as  a  friendly  hand. 
In  the  repose  and  hollow  of  the  night. 
Officiously  stretched  forth  to  scare  one  fly 
From  a  sick  sleeper,  might  upraise  a  swarm 
To  buzz  and  to  awake  him.     Down,  black  bodes, 
False  flies  !  or,  if  ye  will  not  settle,  come 
And  singe  your  little  silken  wings  at  lamp 
Of  this  great  victory. 

{Re-enter  Aide-de-camp.) 

What  light  was  that  ? 

Aide-de-camp. 
My  liege,  the  air  is  filled  with  falling  stars, 
The  fit  concomitant  and  ominous  sign 
Of  proud  Philistia's  downfall. 


SAUL. 


'5 


Saul. 

May  they  be 
Of  that  event  portentous  !     Pass  the  word 
That  bids  our  host  march  homewards  :  —  better  shade 
Than  shine,  to  drowsy  brows,  and  eyes  that,  failing 
Beneath  the  canopy  of  drooping  hds, 
Guide  not  the  falUng  of  way-weary  feet. 
\_Exit  Aide-de-camp  ;  and  a  trumpet  is  blmon  in  the  distance. 

How  sadly  sounds  the  trumpet  through  the  gloom ! 
And  leaves  yet  gloomier  silence.     Sad  and  low, 
The  sleepy  soldiers  to  their  comrades  call ; 
And  sad  the  owl  hoots,  answering  from  the  wood. 
The  bat  awakes,  and  forth  from  yonder  ruin 
Comes  sadly  sailing  hither  ;  from  the  sky 
Comes,  sad,  the  caw  of  the  funereal  rook. 
Sad  sounds  the  trooper's  laugh,  and  sad  the  sound 
O'  the  champing  charger  neighing  o'er  its  corn, 
And  sadder  yet  than  all,  mine  own  sad  soul. 
My  soul  is  much  abused  ;  my  thoughts  seem  things, 
Dim  moving  as  the  day  withdraws  ;  and  night 
Comes  down,  and  of  the  darkness  makes  a  tent 
Over  our  tentless  host  ;  —  and  now,  behold  ; 
Another  host,  as  from  the  other  world, 
Amidst  expiring  twilight  towards  me  comes  ;  — 
Lorn  shadows  and  uncertain,  shifting  shapes 
Before  me  flit ;  or,  ling'ring,  on  me  gaze 
With  melancholy  mien,  and  dumb  with  doom. 
{Enter  an  Officer.) 

Officer. 
My  lord  doth  linger. 

Saul. 

We  '11  not  linger  long. 

\Exit  Officer. 
Why  linger  these  illusions  ?  they  are  naught. — 


i  i 


m 


,  I 


t    I 


I    1 


;-;   if. 


I-:-- 


2X6 


SAUL. 


And  yet  I  see  them,  or  else  think  I  see :  — 

Out,  idle  terrors  !  —  nay,  by  hell  and  heaven, 

There  's  something  in  it !     Lo  !  what  is  there  now 

Stood  in  the  vestibule  of  my  conception, 

Or  from  me  there  a  rood,  I  know  not  which  ? 

It  is  the  form  of  the  heroic  David, 

Crowned,  and  with  Israel's  sceptre  in  its  hand. 

Hence,  Phantom  !     It  is  gone  ;  but  where  it  stood 

Glares  with  vexed  flames,  as  if  they  would  conxince  me 

That  what  I  've  seen  was  real.     Ye  quick  fires, 

If  ye  would  shed  a  light  upon  my  mind, 

Display  some  secret  to  my  understanding  ; 

If,  by  your  friendly  and  unnatural  splendor, 

Expose  some  latent  danger  to  my  rule. 

Inform  me  with  your  dumb  but  luminous  tongues, 

That  wave  and  wag  as  if  in  mockery. 

And  now,  even  whilst  I  question  you,  low  flicker, 

If  ye  have  aught  to  tell  me  for  my  good  ;  — 

Speak,  in  whatever  syllables  may  your 

Ethereal  vocabulary  be  formed, 

And  I  will  hearken  and  interpret  them  ; 

Or,  with  those  lambent,  curious  characters, 

Write  out  for  me  at  once  a  fiery  scroll, 

If  it  shall  beam  with  benefit  to  Saul. 

All 's  darkness  now,  like  hell,  from  whence  this  came. 

Ye  binding  hoops  that  gird  the  cask  o'  the  soul. 

How  have  ye  burst  and  out  of  me  let  reason ! 

I  was  not  once  thus  liable  to  panic. 

Nor  troubled  with  wide-waking,  daylight  visions. 

Then  wherefore  am  I  in  this  hour  befooled  ? 

It  is  the  brooding  on  the  one  sad  thought  — 

The  echoing  of  the  Samuel-uttered  doom, 

Which  even  now,  when  I  was  hopeful,  wafted 

Me  unto  my  old  lunes  upon  a  sudden  — 


SAUL. 

Thus  drags  me  back  unto  my  former  self; 
Even  as  a  thing  which,  long  pressed  out  of  form, 
Does,  after  't  is  restored  to  its  true  shape, 
If  that  which  holds  it  be  removed,  start  back 
All  foul  and  crumpled  to  its  old  mis-figure. 
Away,  and  let  me  this  forget :  —  't  is  evil. 
And  comes  from,  or  may  lead  me  to,  the  Devil. 


217 


\ExU. 


SCENE  VI. 

Ephis-dammim.     Interior  of  a  large  tent.     Saul  and  Jona- 
than, seated. 

Jonathan. 

My  liege,  behold  who  comes,  and  w:ith  what  burden. 
Hung  like  a  pendant  to  his  valiant  hand. 

{Enter  Abner  mtd  David,  the  latter  carrying  the  head  of 

Goliath. ) 

Abner. 

Now,  cousin,  now  behold  a  frontispiece, 

Such  as  will  Nature  not  soon  make  again. 

Now  scrutinize  your  enemy  in  safety. 

How  like  a  slumbering  lion's  head  that  seems  ! 

I  could  believe  Goliath's  spirit  dreamed 

Again  within  that  dome  of  cogitation. 

Who  would  not  choose  to  dream  in  such  a  chamber, 

Although  within  the  precincts  of  death's  palace! 

'T  is  like  to  some  grand  ruin  overgrown 

And  half  concealed  by  herbage.     View  him  well, 

Upwards  from  the  foundation  of  his  chin. 

zo 


wmmmm^mmmm 


ii8 


SAUL. 


Observe  that  shaggy  beard,  those  locks  that  cover 
The  hand  of  David  as  with  coils  of  chains. 
Was  't  not  a  sin  to  kill  so  fine  a  beast  ? 

Jonathan. 
Who  shall  hereafter  trust  in  his  own  strength ! 

Saul  {aside). 

Yea,  or  henceforwards  in  his  proper  eyesight  ? 

Yet  like  him  as  he 's  like  himself,  that  vision. 

{Aloud.)  Lay  down  thy  trophy  on  the  dais,  David. 

Implacability  is  not  for  mortals. 

Now  pity  moves  within  me,  and  I  feel 

A  solemn  reverence  at  sight  of  that 

Fine  relic.     How  august  it  seems  in  death ! 

David,  that  trophy,  I  confess,  is  thine  ; 

But  be  it,  with  its  fallen  carcass,  buried. 

His  armor  will  record  his  bulk,  and  show 

The  volume  of  thy  hardihood,  as  long 

As  brass  endures.     He  was  an  armdd  galley. 

He  was  a  laden  argosy  ;  and  thou 

But  Httle  know'st  the  treasure  thou  hast  cast 

From  out  the  hold  of  his  enormous  frame. 

His  spirit  was  prodigious  as  his  form  ; 

And  noble,  for  he  warned  thee  from  him  ;  hence, 

Cast  no  indignity  upon  the  brave, 

But  lay  that  visage  in  a  decent  grave. 


V^  ^ 

Mf 

'•^^,<^      , 

'  '< 

aA 

^  %\;^ 

M' 

Is 

L^-v  ■>■« 

\ 

M 

H 

ll 

1 

David. 

The  King  shall  be  obeyed.     It  shall  be  covered 
Up  by  the  earth  ;  but  all  his  blasphemous  boasts 
Shall  be  remembered  to  his  evil  fame. 


SA  UL. 

Saul. 

Leave  that  to  those  who  shall  come  after  us  : 
But,  for  ourselves,  to  life  let  punishment 
Be  limited  ;  'gainst  none  be  urged  the  suit 
Of  vengeance  after  death.     Remember  thit 
We  all  are  evil-doers  ;  and  should  justice, 
Intent  to  accuse  us  of  our  numerous  faults, 
Vindictive  follow  us  to  the  courts  of  death. 
All  entering  them  would  certainly  be  cast. 

David. 

Your  Majesty  is  wisest ;  but  was  not 

This  giant  an  idolater,  and  a  foe 

That  did  invade  and  strive  to  enslave  the  land  ? 

Doubtless  he  was  :  —  still,  now  my  ire  is  passed, 

Him  and  his  memory  I  can  from  me  cast. 

Saul. 

You  both  shall  be  remembered,  long  as  might 
And  bravery  retain  their  high  reputes. 
But  let  not  malice  in  thy  young  breast  linger. 
Full  many  things  are  best  forgot ;  and  all 
The  dross  of  life,  men's  vices  and  their  failings, 
Should  from  our  memories  be  let  slip  away, 
As  drops  the  damaged  fruit  from  off  the  bough 
Ere  comes  the  autumn.     It  were  wise,  nay,  just, 
To  strike  with  men  a  balance  ;  to  forgive. 
If  not  forget,  their  evil  for  their  good's  sake. 
The  good  thus  cherished,  banished  thus  the  bad, 
As  the  refiner  from  the  charged  alembic 
Removes  the  scum  that  clouds  the  precious  ore. 
We  shall  grow  rich  in  life's  pure  gold,  and  lose 
Only  its  base  alloy,  its  dross  and  refuse.  — 
But  why  here  linger,  while  glad  Gibeah 


2T9 


220 


SAUL. 


f  k  ■• 


Awaits  impatient  our  triumphal  entry  ? 
For  by  this  time  our  messenger  is  there. 
Abner,  precede  me ; 

{A  sound  of  a  trumpet  heard. ) 

(Hark,  the  clarion  peals  ! ) 
And  let  these  young  braves  follow  at  our  heels. 

\Exeunt  Saul  and  Abner. 

Jonathan. 

Thou  seem'st  not  glad,  my  friend  and  future  brother. 

Art  thou,  in  fancy,  bidding  to  thy  home 

Farewell  ?     Or  art  thou  musing  upon  one 

Of  Beth-lehem's  maidens,  who,  till  thy  return, 

Restless  endures  the  rack  of  tender  thoughts  ? 

David,  thou  must  no  more  consort  with  swains  ; 

Thou  must  no  more  return  to  Beth-lehem. 

Farewell,  now  finally,  to  tending  sheep, 

The  shepherd's  crook,  and  to  the  pastoral  pipe : 

The  martial  sword  and  spear,  the  post  of  trust. 

And  this  well-won  alliance,  now  await  thee. 

Why  didst  thou  leave  the  court  ?  —  But  this  exploit 

(Even  as  an  unexpected  billow  should 

Return  a  drifted  bather  to  the  shore) 

Hath  rendered  thee  again  unto  our  house. 

Come  nearer,  David ;  speak  unto  thy  friend. 

David. 

Pardon  me.  Prince,  but  I  am  dubious  : 

I  know  not  whether  I  've  displeased  the  King 

In  bringing  on  this  trophy. 

Jonathan. 

Fear  not,  David ; 
Fear  not  my  father's  words,  dear  mate  in  arms, 


SAUL. 


221 


But  with  mc  follow  him  to  Gibeah, 
Whither  thou  goest  in  Jehovah's  conduct ; 
Jehovah,  whose  directing  providence, 
From  Beth-lehem's  quiet  but  inglorious  nook, 
At  the  due  moment  led  thee  to  the  camp  ; 
The  camp  which  is  the  entrance  to  the  court, 
The  court  which  still  is  rife  with  praise  of  thee. 
O,  thou  art  worthy  of  its  utmost  praise ! 
O,  thou  this  hour  appearest  to  me  fair ! 
Most  fair  thou  wert  of  yore,  with  healing  harp, 
Seated,  and  giving  health  unto  my  father ; 
But  now,  erect,  and  with  this  rosy  flush 
Of  virgin  victory  o'er  thee,  like  the  mantle 
The  orient  wears  at  morning  breaking  cool, 
Thou  art  fairer  than  the  kindling  firmament, — 
Art  fairer  than  the  young,  empurpling  dawn. 
Thou,  with  thy  flinty  pebble  of  the  brook, 
Hast  from  the  giant's  mail  struck  out  a  flash, 
That  doth  illume  thee  as  the  lightning  'iumes 
The  marble  idol,  making  it  resplendent. 
We  shall,  I  fear,  an  idol  make  of  thee. 
I  fear  we  shall  be  tempted  thee  to  worship, 
Who  hast  already  found  a  golden  shrine 
And  ruby  temple  in  our  heart's  affections. 

0  David,  genius  makes  the  world  its  vassal. 
And,  from  the  moistened  avenues  of  these  eyes, 

1  do  admire  and  pay  thee  lawful  homage. 
0,  do  not  wonder  that  I  should  extol  thee, 
0,  do  not  wonder  that  I  deem  thee  fair. 
Fair  was  the  morning  star,  as  late  I  saw  him 
Shining  ere  daybreak  o'er  a  verdant  hill ; 
And  fair  the  eve's  star,  as  I  lately  saw  her. 
At  twilight  beaming  on  the  Dead  Sea  shore  ; 
But  nor  the  morn  star,  as  I  lately  saw  him. 


222 


SAUL. 


M 


f  M 


I'^ri 


Kre  daybreak  shining  o'er  a  verdant  hill, 

Nor  evening's,  as  at  twilight  I  beheld  her, 

All  lonely  shining  o'er  the  Dead  Sea  shore, 

Pleased  me  as  thou  dost  now.     My  fellow-soliiier, 

I  would  not  be  extravagant,  nor  would  I 

Willingly  flatter  thee,  —  not  I,  —  but  thou, 

By  this  most  glorious  and  successful  duel, 

Art  suddenly  become  a  point  of  fire,  — 

Art  suddenly  become  the  fulgent  boss 

And  shining  centre  of  our  kingdom's  shield  ; 

On  which  this  victory's  new-risen  splendor 

Hath  gathered  and  upcupped  itself,  as  if 

An  ocean  were  condensed  there  to  a  drop, 

Outshining  diamonds  ;  and  with  its  beams, 

Bright  burning  publicly  approving  him 

Who  has  drawn  t'  himself  bright  favor  from  the  might 

And  majesty  of  Saul.     Speak,  David,  speak. 

No  longer  stand  in  shady  pensiveness. 

When  o'er  thee  hangs  the  royal  ray  serene  ; 

Yea,  the  full  glory  of  a  heaven  of  honor. 

Speak  to  me,  David  ;  answer  me,  I  pray  thee. 

David. 

What  shall  I  say  unto  your  gracious  Highness, 
Except  that  gratitude  doth  penetrate  me. 
And  cause  me  to  forget  his  Majesty's  check ; 
Even  as  the  tepid  breathing  of  the  spring 
Drives  out  the  inlodged  winter  from  the  earth  ? 

Jonathan. 

O,  do  not  thus  respond  to  me  lukewarmly !  — 
What  shalt  thou  say?     Listen,  and  I  will  tell  thee. 
Say  that  we  are  henceforth  in  friendship  joined ; 
That  in  the  lists  of  amity,  henceforward. 


SAUL. 

With  offices  of  kinUucaa  we  will  vie. 
Wilt  thou  not  cope  with  me-in  friendship,  brother? 
Wilt  thou  not  now  accept  of  my  love-challenge  ? 
What  shalt  thou  say  ? —  I  know  the  valiant 
Often  lack  rhetoric,  but  not  so  thou, 
Who  can,  at  times,  discourse  like  one  inspired, 
And  teach  the  very  cherubim  to  woo. 
Lo,  now  I  woo  thee,  let  us  woo  each  other, 
And  not  by  means  of  woman-winning  words, 
But  by  the  manlier  proxy  of  our  deeds. 
Let  thine,  performed  in  Elah's  steep-bound  vale. 
Approach  to  mine,  performed  at  steepy  Michmash. 
Let  Elah  Michmash  kiss,  and  Michmash  Elah ;  — 
And  for  the  rest,  why,  let  us  imitate  them. 

{^Kisses  David.) 

David, 
Too  generous  Prince,  I  do  believe  thou  lov'st  me  ; 
And  I  love  thee,  but  with  a  reverence 
Engendered  by  thy  station,  and  abase 
Mine  eyes  before  thee  ;  even  as  the  flame 
Which,  though  of  the  same  element,  doth  yet 
Abate  and  fade  as  on  it  shines  the  sun : 
For,  Jonathan,  although  thou  deemest  me 
To  be  so  worthy,  still  it  matters  not ; 
For  well  I  know  (and  rue)  that  perfect  friendship 
(However  we  may  strive  to  join  ourselves) 
Will  not  vouchsafe  its  lacing,  golden  cords 
To  bind  disparities.     Forgive  me  if 
I  speak  too  plainly.     I  am  not  thine  equal : 
I  'm  but  a  shepherd  though  I  've  slain  the  giant. 

Jonathan. 
O,  that  desert  should,  like  to  distance,  dwarf 
Great  deeds  unto  the  doer's  modest  eyes  ! 


--0 


2  24 


SAUL. 


\  I 


Tliou  art  much  more,  thou  art  a  warrior, 

Upon  whose  arms  the  Lord  hath  dcij^ncd  to  smile. 

Nay,  thou  dost  wrong  thyself;  thou  errest,  David  ; 

There  is  not  the  disparity  thou  dreamst  of. 

Are  we  not  nigh  one  age  ?     Have  we  not  both 

Been  taken  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel? 

Are  both  of  us  not  daring  ?    Are  we  not, 

liy  thy  late  pass  of  arms  with  that  grim  creature, 

As  well  as  by  thy  former  service,  rendered 

Unto  my  father's  troubled  majesty. 

When,  by  the  solenm  witchery  of  thy  music, 

Thou  didst  deliver  him  from  the  baneful  fiend. 

Made  equals  on  the  genuine  grounds  of  merit? 

It  is  not  station  in  a  gilded  court. 

What  thou  hast  lacked  ;  nor  that  which  I  do  lack, 

A  long  and  legend-covered  pedigree  ; 

But  noble  deeds,  and  noble  natural  powers, 

That  give  the  stamp  and  value  unto  man. 

Try  us  by  these,  then  say  if  we  are  not, 

In  all  the  traits  wherein  consists  true  iikeness, 

More  wrought  to  be  as  castings  from  one  mould, 

Than,  oft,  the  fashioning  in  one  womb  doth  give 

Of  temper  and  exterior  resemblance. 


David  {aside), 

I  can  resist  no  lonpcr  such  sweet  words. 

{Aland.)  Jonaihan,  ti.ju  dost  compel  me  to  thy  wish. 

I  did  esteem  thvc  _re  I  saw  thee,  and 

Desired  to  emulate  thy  daring  deeds. 


Jonathan. 

And  dost  thou  say  so  ?     Let  us  plight  each  other. 
Hear  now,  ye  angels,  if  such  hover  o'er  us, 


SAUL.  225 

And  shed  sincerity  upon  us  both  ; 

That  this  intended  covenant  may  be, 

E'en  as  your  sacred  selves  are,  strong  and  blessed.        ,' 

David,  I  offer  thee  perpetual  friendship, 

And,  therewith,  such  large  measure  of  my  love 

As  I  have  never  given  before  to  man. 

David. 

Which  I  accept ;  and  offer  in  return,  . 

What  you  have  always  had,  fidelity  ; 
And  add  thereunto,  by  your  free  gift  laid, 
A  love  not  given  before  to  man  or  maid. 

Jonathan. 

Take  thou,  unmeasured,  mine  ;  and,  with  it,  take 

This  robe,  sword,  bow,  and  girdle,  as  a  sign 

And  seal  of  this  our  covenant. 

{A  dull  sound  heard  in  the  distance. ) 

We  come :  — 

*T  is  the  last  roll  of  the  departing  drum. 

Let  us  set  forth,  and  overtake  the  King, 

Towards  Gibeah  urging  upon  victory's  wing. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE  VII. 

A  sylvan  country  between  Ephis-dammim  and  Gibeah.  A 
sound  of  females  singing  merrily.  Enter  Saul  and  the 
Officers  of  his  staff. 

Saul  {entering). 

-Our  land  this  year  receives  a  second  spring. 

So  rife  it  is  with  gay  and  bird-like  carol, 

Proceeding  yet  from  out  our  victory's  grove  ; 

10  •  o 


fFf* 


226 


SAUL. 


That,  as  we  journey,  doth  produce  new  echoes, 
In  widening  series,  breaking  still  anew. 
What  is  it  that  these  maids  are  uttering. 
Who  seem  to  me  much  more  methodical, 
In  the  wild  elegance  of  their  mazy  mirth, 
Than  all  before  we  've  noted? 

First  Officer. 

Here  they  come. 

{Enter  a  grottp  of  yciing  females  singing  and  dancings  and  with 
musical  instruments.) 

SONG, 

Far  as  Epliis-dammim  came 
The  Philistines,  dreadful  name  I 
But  to  meet  them  went  the  King, 
And  young  David  with  his  sling. 

Chorus  [zvith  dancing). 

Saul  he  has  his  thousands  slain, 
David  has  his  thousands  ten. 


Ah! 


Saul. 

SONG. 

In  the  vale  'tween  mountains  lying, 
Came  Goliath  forth  defying  ; 
Fear  came  with  him  on  our  host, 
But  brave  David  stayed  his  boast 

Chorus. 

Saul  he  has  his  thousands  slain, 
But  David  has  his  thousands  ten. 


Saul. 

This  is  the  very  creeping  towards  the  height 
At  which  he  showed  near  Ekron.     Do  my  ears 


SAUL. 

Deceive  me  here,  as  there  my  eyes  befooled  me  ? 
Keep  calm,  my  blood. 

SONG. 

Pebbles  five  from  out  the  brook, 
David  to  the  encounter  took  ; 
Fitted  one  unto  his  sling, 
Sent  it  on  its  airy  wing. 

Chorus. 
Saul  he  has  his  thousands  slain, 
David  has  his  thousands  ten. 

Saul. 
O,  now  I  rue  I  did  not  meet  the  giant. 
Or  disallow  the  deed  unto  thi  youth. 
I  '11  stop  this  chant.  —  Nay,  let  them  end  their  folly. 

SONG. 

Lo  !  the  giant,  pierced,  fell  dead  ; 
Lo  !  the  proud  Philistines  fled, 
Chased  by  Said,  devoid  of  ruth, 
And  the  handsome  shepherd  youth. 

Chorus. 
Saul  ne  has  his  thousands  slain, 
But  David  has  his  thousands  ten. 

Second  Officer. 
Sea  I'lvtw  the  King's  look  lowers. 

SONG. 

Nor  till  reached  far  Ekron's  gate 
Doth  pursuit  its  fury  fate  ; 
Then  Philistia's  daughters  wail, 
"While  with  joy  we  load  the  gale. 

Cforus. 
Ss\.,'  he  has  his  thou.'iunds  slain, 
B'u  bold  Od/id  t.bc/us?,nds  ten. 


227 


228 


SAUL. 


First  Officer. 

Speak  to  the  King  : 
Perchance  the  fiend  is  entering  him  again, 
For  hell  is  in  his  eyes. 

Second  Officer. 
It  is  too  late. 

Saul. 

Fools,  tell  what  undiscriminatin|;  churl 
Composed  for  you  that  burden  !  .; 

First  Officer. 

Towers  ha  v^e  fallen, 
Whirlwinds  have  wrenched  their  wasteful  way  through 

woods. 
And  the  outrushing  thunder  scared  courageous  men, 
With  less  dread  noise  ! 

Second  Officer. 

It  surely  was  a  demon 
Then  blew  the  trumpet  of  the  royal  mouth, 
For  it  was  hell's  own  peall 

First  Officer. 

As  when  the  blast 
Scatters  the  buds,  and  leaves  bare  branches  swinging, 
The  maids  have  vanished  ;  and  the  King,  perturbed, 
Stalks  to  and  fro.     Behold,  he 's  struggling  with 
A  spirit  of  wrath  (whether  it  be  his  own 
Or  from  the  Lord). 

Saul. 

Now  let  me  curb  mine  anger, 
Lest  it  should  gallop  with  me  off  the  field. 


ii^ 


M5^ 


m 


SAUL. 


First  Officer. 


229 


I  never  saw  the  Kins  so  much  incensed. 


Saul. 


Nay,  this  would  spur  the  dullest  steed  to  start, 

And  throw  his  rider  too,  scorning  the  bridle. 

Hold  hard,  hold  hard,  though  we  should  break  the  reins. 

Honor  a  subject  and  insult  the  King !  — 

'Tis  well  the  caper-cutting  troop  have  fled,  ' 

And  to  a  better  purpose  put  their  heels. 

What  next .''  blows  follow  threats.     This  was  defiance  ; 

This  was  the  very  pass  and  guard  of  young 

Rebellion  ;  and  these  girls  his  saucy  trulls. 

Ah,  I  have  been  too  lenient  and  secure ;  * 

But  now  the  rigor  of  my  reign  begins. 


First  Officer. 
Mark  him. 

Second  Officer. 

I  do,  I  do  ;  he  's  calmer  now. 
But  deadlier.     He  looks  more  fell  than  tiger 
When  it  hath  couched  it  for  the  fatal  spring. 

Saul. 

Ay,  ay,  I  '11  note  them  ;  I  will  be  abroad  ;  ^ 
I  will  have  spies  in  every  town  and  hamlet : 
For  it  is  meet  that  it  should  be  so,  when 
They  keep  a  poet  in  these  unpolished  parts.  — 
This  is  the  work  of  elder  heads  than  theirs. 
Why  find  I  not  the  covert  knave  who  wrote 
Their  pasan,  and  at  once  asunder  saw  him  "^ 
But  I  '11  be  prompt  henceforward,  and  Conviction 
Shall  hurry  Execution  to  his  office  :  — 
Yea,  and  Suspicion  shall  be  competent 


230 


SA  UL. 


\  <t ' 


\\ 


To  stand  unchallenged  and  give  evidence. 
Go,  put  our  troops  in  motion,  gentlemen  : 
These  were  but  foolish  hoydens,  after  all. 

First  Officer. 

Let  us  not  leave  him,  though  he  so  commands  us. 
He  's  hot  within,  though  at  the  surface  cooled. 

Saul. 

'T  •  -"?  David  through  the  whole,  and  ever  highest : 
A  st    '"'"^'^  t'.cme. 

First  Officer. 

Look  how  he  frowns  again  : 
This  bodes  some  ill. 

Saul. 

To  me  they  have  ascribed 
Thousands,  but  unto  David  tens  of  thousands  ; 
And  what  more  could  he  have  except  the  kingdom  ? 

Second  Officer. 
He  muttering  walks,  scarce  knowing  what  he  does. 

Saul. 

I  've  been  deceived  ;  these  also  were  but  spectres.  — 
You  go  not,  gentlemen  :  the  song  is  ended.  — 
Woe  unto  Levi  if  he  this  inspired  ! 

First  Officer. 
Stay. 

Second  Officer. 

No ;  we  shall  but  draw  on  us  his  wrath. 

Saul. 

Am  I  not  in  an  after-dinner  dream  ? 
No,  nor  in  twilight  revery,  when  fear 


231 


SAUL. 

Carves  out  an  image  from  its  own  conceits. 
I  doubt  mine  eyes,  but  I  '11  believe  mine  ears  : 
It  cannot  be  that  I  am  twice  befooled. 
Look,  how  my  officers  yet  stand  amazed  ! 
I  '11  to  the  air  give  Ekron's  vision  ;  but 
Shall  this  dissolve  away,  like  that,  in  doubt,  — 
This  that  enthralls  its  wondering  witnesses  ? 
Go  on  before  me,  gentlemen,  I  pray  you. 

riKST  Officer. 
Myself  will  dare  him,  to  prevent  worse  issue. 

{To  Saul.) 
The  King  is  moved  by  this  hyperbole. 

Saul. 

Hyperbole  !     It  was  beyond  all  bounds. 
What  in  this  world  shall  now  be  counted  pure, 
When  lies  and  treason  pass  through  such  sweet  lips  ? 

First  Officer. 
There  is  no  conduit  but  is  sometimes  fouled. 

Saul. 

Then  angels'  mouths  may  yield  obscenity; 

And  why  should  men  strive  to  be  nice  and  clean  ? 

First  Officer. 
Nor  man  nor  maiden  is  immaculate. 

Saul. 

There  is  no  purity  in  this  foul  world, 
Nor  dwells  consistency  in  thought  or  thing. 
The  mind  is  but  a  toy  for  grosser  nature, 
And  circumstances  dominate  our  deeds. 


''    i\ 


11-J 


■If  ill 


! 


232 


SAUL. 


Now  straight  to  Gibeah  urge.     Along,  along ; 

And  bid  the  drums  outroU  their  loudest  thunder ; 

And  let  the  shrill  pipes  and  the  martial  bugles 

Swell  to  the  uttermost.     Be  clashed  the  cymbals ! 

Let  all  the  trumpets  rend  the  sky  together, 

And  bid  our  forces  raise  a  general  shout, 

That  this  vile  gust  of  harmony  may  be  lost 

In  a  loud  storm  and  raging  sea  of  discord !  [Exii. 

Second  Officer. 

Why  did  these  maidens  thus  salute  the  King, 
Except  it  were  to  hurt  their  darling,  David  ? 
This  is  a  world  of  wide-eyed  wonder  ;  one 
Where  foolish  friends,  admiring  dauntless  deeds, 
r'ay  d?mn  the  doer  wilh  unmeasured  praises. 

{Exeunt,  and  presently  a  peal  of  trumpets,  drums,  cym- 
bals, &'€.,  mingled  with  cheers  of  the  distant  sol- 
diery. 


'i''  \<  Kl 


ACT    III. 

SCENE    I. 

77ie  Alps.     Tirne^  nighty  with  stars.    Enter  Malzah,  xoalkiiig 

.         sliTivly. 

Malzah. 

So,  so  ;  I  feel  the  signal. 

It  seems  to  reach  me  through  the  air, 

To  Saul  it  prompts  me  to  repair. 

I  wish  't  would  cease  ;  it  doth  not  please 

Me  now  to  terminate  my  leisure. 

I  was  alone  ;  and  here  to  groan 

At  present  is  my  greatest  pleasure. 

I  '11  come  anon  ;  I  say  begone  ;  — 

What  is  the  wayward  King  to  me  ? 

I  say  begone  ;  I  '11  come  anon. 

O,  thou  art  strong  ;  I  '11  follow  thee. 

\^Exit,  and  otter  the  angel  Zelehtha. 

Zelehtha. 
He  flees,  he  flees,  across  the  seas 
That  eastward  lead  to  Canaan's  land  ; 
And  Heaven  commands  me  not  to  cease 
To  urge,  yet  guide,  his  hand. 
(Looking  np^uards. ) 
How  every  star  reminds  me  of  my  lover  1 


»»*ji:/ 


i'     ;^ 


:*'.' 


Z3'\ 


SA  UL. 


: 


' 


frt 


It 


If 


b  it 

m 
■fe 


t    !■ 


l: 


i 

It    I'' 
li    ii! 


When  we  did  part,  he  on  me  cast  his  eyes, 

Bright  as  those  orbs.  —  Yet  over  them  suffusion 

Came  hke  the  mists  o'er  evening,  as  he  charged  me 

Still  to  him  to  return  (if  so  I  might 

Return  afresh  to  him,  my  home  and  goal), 

What  time  the  earth  returned  day's  light  to  heaven. 

So  would  I  now  swift  soar  unto  his  bosom, 

But  I  must  not  abandon  this  foul  fiend, 

Until  his  work  is  done.     Hence  do  I  follow 

Him  through  the  spaces  of  the  universe, 

Still  tracking  him  in  silence,  as  I  track 

Him  now  across  these  heaven-piercing  heights, 

O'er  which  the  quiet,  congregated  stars 

Dance,  twinkling-footed,  and,  in  gladness,  make 

Mute  immemorial  measure,  without  song. 

Yet  hearken ;  the  immeasurable  yawn 

Methinks  awakens,  and,  by  me  evoked, 

This  grave  of  silence  gives  a  ghost  of  sound. 

What  song  is  that  which  wanders  hitherward. 

Falling  as  faintly  and  as  dewlike  down 

Into  the  urn  of  my  night-opened  ear, 

As  might,  like  incense,  to  the  nostril  come 

The  floating  fragrance  of  a  far-off  flower  ? 

It  is  the  voice  of  some  desiring  seraph, 

That  lonely  sings  unto  her  absent  love  ; 

And,  in  the  breathing  of  her  languishment. 

Gives  more  than  words  unto  the  dumb  abyss. 

I  '11  also  sing,  since  some  ascending  angel 

May  hear  it,  and  repeat  it  to  my  cherub. 

(Sin^s.) 
I  said,  farewell, 

And  smiled,  —  for  tears  yet  never  fell  in  heaven  ; 
But  thou  didst  sigh, 
"  Farewell,"  didst  sigh  ;  "  return  to  me  at  even." 


SA  UL. 

But  why  at  even 

Didst  thou  to  thee  solicit  my  return  ? 

Since  distance  cannot 

Divide  us  who  in  old  embraces  bum. 


235 


Then  let 's  unsay 

"  Farewell,"  — which  we  ought  never  to  have  said, 

But,  each  to  each, 

Words  of  rejoicing  and  delight  instead. 

Lorn  thoughts  from  thee 

Put  far,  then,  since,  though  now  from  thee  apart, 

I  soon  shall  be  ' 

Again  thy  love -mate,  wheresoe'er  thou  art. 

Lo,  where  yon  demon,  with  increasing  speed, 

Makes  his  dim  way  across  the  night-hung  flood. 

Due  to  the  Hebrew  King,  with  onward  heed, 

Like  to  a  hound  that  snuffs  the  scent  of  blood. 

1  '11  follow  him.  \ExiU 


SCENE    II. 


Gibeah.     A  spacious  apartment  in  the  palace.     Titne,  the 

morrow. 

Saul  {entering). 

Now  let  hell  work  (or  heaven)  its  will  on  Saul ! 
I  am  beset  by  a  new  demon  ;  still 
That  chorus  haunts  me,  and  from  every  other 
Study  my  mind  reverts  to  that  foul  lode-thought. 
I  know  that  I  am  not  in  health  of  body  ; 
Hence  may  arise  the  sickness  of  my  mind. 


iSwSrai 


236 


SAUL. 


For  I  am  seized  with  ague  of  the  soul, 

Now  hot,  now  cold,  now  rage,  now  fear,  in  turns : 

And  sometimes  I  believe  I  feel  my  old, 

My  demon-ruled  and  fatal  fit  returning. 

0  God,  give  me  not  up  again  to  that ! 
David,  young  roe,  start  from  tliy  form,  and  flee 
Out  of  the  dangerous  thicket  of  my  thoughts  ! 

\Exit^  and  re-mter, 

1  know  the  fit 's  around  me  gathering. 
I  cannot  be  deceived ;  I  feel  the  true, 
Alas,  too  true,  awakening  of  the  storm. 

O,  let  my  thoughts'  course  now  turn  far  from  David ; 

Lest,  when  the  helm  of  reason  no  more  guides  me, 

I  run  him  down  upon  his  life's  young  sands. 

And  voyage  thenceforth  beneath  remorseful  clouds. 

Come,  ye  benignant  ministers  of  heaven, 

Ye  mild  mid-region-dwelling  genii. 

Angels,  or  whatsoever  be  your  name, 

Whose  hands,  still  charged  with  various  dispensations, 

Administer  heavenly  medicine  to  the  world. 

Come  to  my  heart,  and,  with  some  blessed  unction, 

Assuage  and  mollify  its  growing  ire  ; 

Purge  me  of  these  unnatural  suggestions  ; 

O,  disinfect  me  of  these  sad  misgivings  ! 

\^Exit,  and  re-enter. 
It  cannot  be  ;  't  is  blackness  all,  and  thickens, 
And  in  it  I  must  grope,  howe'er  I  stumble. 
Alas,  I  know  not  if  I  may  not  have 
A  too  substantial  ground  for  dread  of  David. 
Granting  his  image  on  the  plain  near  Ekron 
Were  merely  in  imagination's  mirror; 
Yet  its  re-rendering  by  the  saucy  miustrels, 
That  seeming  many-voiced  corroboration, 
Wherein  true  flesh  and  blood,  at  ears  and  eyes, 


SAUL. 


337 


Forcing  conviction  onwards  by  two  paths, 

Did  cry  out  loudly  to  the  same  dumb  burden,  — 

What  can  be  said  to  that,  except  to  ask. 

Is  not  this  he  to  whom  my  throne  was  given  ? 

0  horror  !     O,  now  blows  temptation  on  me 
Until  I  strain  beneath  the  infernal  gale. 
Pour  on  me,  hurricane  ;  I  can  withstand  thee. 
Nay,  nay  ;  now  hold.     I  will  not  —  yet  I  will  ; 
He  shall  not  live  to  peril  me.     I  go  ; — 

Nay,  hold,  rash  fool ;  down  with  that  bloody  flag. 
O,  look  not  there,  my  soul,  at  that  false  polestar 
Would  coldly  guide  thee  into  a  dark  gulf. 
From  whence  thou  never  couldst  return  to  these 
Waters  of  innocence,  —  of  innocence 
Though  troubled.     Ah,  alas,  thus  insecure  ! 

1  deemed  that  I  again  was  snugly  housed ; 
When  from  the  wilderness  there  comes  a  blast, 
That  casts  my  cabin  of  assurance  down. 

And  leaves  me  in  the  tempest.     Seemed  it  spring 
Was  only  just  returning  to  my  soul  ; 
And  here  I  pant  in  sultry  summer  air, 
Wherein  I  feel  the  tiend  wild  floating  round  me, 
Like  a  huge  blowfly,  and  upon  my  spirit 
Seeking  to  sow  new  horrors.     Phantom,  spare  me : 
Begone  from  me,  without  thee  filled  with  sorrow. 
Do  thou  not  bring  thy  rough,  black  waves  to  sink  me. 

[/f.r//,  and  re-enter  tvildly. 
He  comes  again  ;  the  fiend  again  attempts  me. 
Who  is  this  thing  that  whips  me  i   •     .;all  ? 
I  know  him  now,  —  at  last  methinks  1  know  him  ; 
'Tis  Spleen,  'tis  Spleen  ;  it  is  the  Goblin  Spleen  ; 
Who  still  can  find  occasion,  as  can  find 
The  spider  corner  where  to  hang  its  web. 
David  is  now  my  occasion  j  David  is 


238 


SAUL. 


To  me  a  boil,  now  r;reedlly  drawinsr  to  it 
The  humors  of  my  long-distempered  heart. 
O  Spleen,  thou  art  a  devil  of  thyself, 
And  canst  bring  up  Gehenna  from  the  deep, 
And  therewith  set  on  lire  thy  victim's  soul  ! 

0  Spleen,  Spleen,  Spleen,  unnatural  embryo. 
That  gnawest  the  womb  that  doth  engender  tliee  I 
Wolf,  out  of  me  !     Ah,  have  I  named  thee  right  ? 
O,  't  is  a  wolf,  it  is  a  devil,  in  me  ; 

A  devil  that  I  cannot,  dare  not,  name  ; 

A  wolf  that  seems  composed  of  hell's  black  flame. 

Burn,  flame,  what  care  I  !     Wolf  or  fiend,  devour  me. 

Grow,  foetus,  grow  ;  rack  violated  Saul 

With  pangs  more  dire  than  woman's  in  her  travail  ! 

Spirit,  grow  riot ;  raise  all  Tophet  in  me  ; 

Confusion,  blindness,  and  barbarity. 

Oh,  oh  !  —  Why  should  I  moan  if  Heaven  sends     '  — 

'Tis  hell,  't  is  hell  ;  I  hear  her  rumbhng  wheel' 

That,  when  this  outrage  is  accomplished,  come 

To  bear  me  to  the  region  of  the  damned. 

1  '11  go  and  clamor  unto  Heaven  to  save  me. 

\Exit^  and  re-enter, 
I  am  not  heard  :  heaven's  doors  are  closed,  and  will 
Not  open  to  my  knocking.     O  for  war ; 
New  cruise  ;  —  but  O  for  no  young  sharks  of  David.s 
To  swallow  down  my  glory.     But  the  hook 
Shall  stick  in  him.     Now,  melting  mercy,  fly ; 
Begone,  begone,  ye  pleadings  ;  I  '11  not  hear  ye. 
Why  should  I  hear  you  when  myself 's  unheard  ? 
Why  should  I  spare  him  when  God  spares  not  me  ? 
I  've  been  by  far  too  casuistical  ; 
And  casuistry  would  not  let 's  kill  flies, 
Nor  any  other  vermin.    But  I  '11  kill. 
All  Israel  knows  that  I  am  under  ban  ; 


SAUL. 


n^ 


I  am  encompassed  round  with  enemies, 

And  I  will  fight  my  way  through  though  I  murder. 

Start  not,  my  heart,  at  that  outblurtcd  word, 

As  might  a  steed  recoiling  from  a  serpent ; 

Reat  not  thus  like  a  hammer  in  my  breast. 

Murder  is  only  death,  and  what  as  death 

So  common  ?     I  will  do  it  ;  —  I  must  do  it.  — 

It  will  not  be  so  painful  as  I  thought ; 

Anticipation  ever  is  a  cheat. 

Ah,  with  what  furlongs  murderward  I  'm  striding ! 

I  lence,  and  with  motion  whirl  my  soul  from  David ! 

\IL\it,  and  re-enter. 
Why,  many  a  maid  ere  this  has  been  defiled, 
And  many  a  brave  youth  has  untimely  perished. 
The  whole  world  dies.     Yes,  that's  the  way  to  think. 
So  probably  the  mad   oned  Moses  thought, 
In  killing  the  Egyptian  ;  so  thought  Jael, 
When  nailing  Sisera  to  the  floor  ;  so  Ehud 
Whispered  as  tickling  Eglon's  ribs  ;  and  Samuel, 
(Ah,  glad  I  am  that  I  have  thought  of  him,) 
Samuel  when  he  too  played  the  slayer.     Yes, 
But  all  these  victims  would  have  done  as  much 
For  those  who  did  those  deeds  on  them  ;  but  David  — 
Oh,  't  were  ingratitude  and  tenfold  murder  ! 
Oh,  oh,  't  were  foul,  't  were  foul !  a  ghastly  deed ! 
Let  me  not  stray  into  that  vault  again. 
I  '11  go  and  strive  to  pray  down  these  suggestions. 
And  ask  Heaven's  pardon  that  I  entertained  them. 

\ExU^  and  enter  the  Queen  and  Daviu,  the  latter  bear* 
ing  his  harp. 


Queen. 

O,  happy  is  it,  David,  happy  that 

Thou,  his  physician,  com'st  v/ith  his  disease. 


240 


SAUL. 


If  ' 

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Av  ^  % 

I 

,    '  > 

1    '  i 

;i  :  >; 

■ .  ;• 

c 


I  heard  his  voice  ;  he  cannot  be  remote. 

Hie  after  him,  and  be  once  more  his  healer. 

{Exit  David. 
O,  sorrow  riding  pilh'on  unto  joy, 

Turning  the  latter  to  a  mockery  ! 

How  long  with  Saul  will  this  foul  spirit  bide  ? 

When  will  Jehovah's  wrath  be  satisfied  ? 

Lo,  here  Saul  comes,  his  visage  fraught  with  ill. 

I  must  begone  j  his  very  looks  would  kill. 

\Exit,  and  re-enter  Saul. 

Saul. 

Why  have  I  fallen  again  upon  my  knees. 
And  cast  mine  eyes  in  agony  towards  heaven  1 
No  prayer  of  mine  arose,  no  prayer  I  breathed. 
I  cannot  pray  ;  for  that  which  should  aspire 
Rests  'neath  despair,  or  turns  aside  at  ire. 
Why  should  I  try  to  pray  ?     I  have  not  prayed 
These  years.     Would  cursing  not  avail  me  more  ? 
For  I  have  known  men  that  have  cursed  out  humors, 
Like  trampling  out  dispersed  and  dangerous  sparks. 

{E titer  David. 
I  '11  trample  out  him,  and  be  thereby  at  peace ; 
I  '11  pin  him  to  the  wall.     This  hour  he  dies. 

(David  beginning  to  play,  Saul  throws  the  javelin  at  him, 
which  sticks  in  the  zvall,  and  David  escapes. ) 

Transport  him  to  the  grave,  ye  angels,  now  ; 
Bear  him  away,  ye  ministers  who  bore 
The  corpse  of  Moses  ;  and  as  it  ye  biyied, 
That  none  know  where  it  lies  unto  this  day, 
So  murdered  David's  ever  hide  away. 
Ungrateful  Saul  !     Poor  murdered  youth  ! 
I  '11  look  upon  him  though  it  sear  my  sight. 
(Seeing  that  David  has  escaped. ) 


m 


SAUL. 


241 


Deception  rules  the  hour,  and  hell  or  spleen 

Hath  made  my  skull  a  hall  to  riot  in. 

Now  will  he  straightway  go  and  tell  the  Queen. 

Why,  let  him  go  and  tell  Gehenna's  king ; 

No  soul  shall  live  to  fill  my  heart  with  dread. 

To  the  winds,  remorse.     They  '11  say  the  spirit  did  it, 

And  they  '11  say  truly.     Come  forth,  javelin,  come ; 

To-day,  it  seems,  death  is  not  David's  doom. 

\Exit,  and  enter  M.KLZX\l, 

Malzah. 

Out  of  his  hand  the  javelin  flew, 

And  entered  into  the  wall :  — 

Ha,  ha,  ha  !  there  's  a  strange  ado 

When  at  such  small  game  flies  Saul. 

He  struck  at  David,  and  said  't  was  I  : 

He  says  I  made  the  javelin  fly  : 

He  grasped  it  hard,  and  yet  it  flew  : 

Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  !  what  an  ado  .' 

How  mortals  worry  when  they  :>lip  \ 

If  they,  like  us,  their  souls  would  dip 

And  dye  all  o'er  in  one  grand  sinning, 

We  less  should  hear  of  their  conscience-dinning. 

Temptation,  indeed  !  they  need  it  not : 

Whew,  whew,  let  man  go  rot. 

\Exit,  but  re-enter  immediately,  laughing  heartily^ 
Oh,  ho  !  oh,  ho  !  here  's  a  pretty  jest. 
I  'II  labor  now,  having  had  my  rest : 
His  strange  abuse  has  given  me  zest. 
Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  !  I  '11  him  re-fetter  : 
The  next  time  he  tries  perhaps  he  '11  do  better. 
Lo,  here  he  comes  ;  and,  if  right  I  spy, 
He  has  still  got  David  in  his  eye. 
{Enter  Saul.) 


wmm 


242 


SAUL. 


Saul. 

What  if  I  should  dismiss  him  merely  ?   Nay : 
In  that  case  he  'd  but  spread  abroad  his  glory 
Amongst  the  people  ;  as  Samson's  foxes  spread 
Their  fire  among  the  corn  of  the  Philistines. 

Malzah. 
Murder  him,  and  there  's  an  end.     To  faint 's  to  fall. 

Saul. 
Ah,  was  not  that  a  voice  ?     No  ;  't  was  my  own 
Soul's  echo.  {Exit. 

Malzah. 
I  will  follow  him. 

\Exit,  and  re-enter  soon. 
Again 
I  've  breathed  him  ;  he  is  nearly  mad.     What  with 
This  new-born  jealousy,  and  the  cold  envy, 
Which,  like  the  north  wind  on  the  winter  fire. 
Blows  into  rage  the  embers  of  the  spleen 
That  nature  kindled  in  him  ere  his  birth  ; 
And  what  with  mine  own  goading  influence. 
He,  as  of  old,  but  now  with  settled  aim. 
Broods  in  the  palace,  or  o'er  the  grounds  goes  stalking 
With  his  clutched  javelin.     I  '11  visit  him 
Again  anon  :  meantime  I  '11  stay  me  here, 
Awaiting  whatsoever  shall  befall, 
Singing  a  little  to  tide  my  tedium. 

SONG. 

Ye  melancholy  dogs  below, 
Up  hell's  perpetual  furnace  blow 
With  general  sighs  ;  I  pity  ye, 
But  what  is  your  distress  to  me  ? 
In  piany  sorts  I  count  you  better 
Thau  T,  who  have  escaped  your  fetter. 


SAUL. 

Here  comes  my  royal  maniac  in  my  chains, 
I  'm  here,  yet  riding  in  his  brains. 

{Enter  Saul.) 

Saul. 
I  will  extinguish  him. 

Malzah. 

What,  me  ?     Nay,  nay. 

Saul. 

I  will  extinguish  him  with  this,  and  nothing. 
Except  some  smoke  and  odor,  shall  remain  ; 
Merely  remembrance,  and  a  month's  soft  wind 
Bears  that  away.     The  ungrateful  multitude 
Remember  for  a  month,  and  then  forget. 

Malzah. 
Ha,  ha !  ha,  ha !  indeed 't  is  very  true. 
Now  Malzah  may  lie  quiet,  for  the  King 
Needs  no  more  seasoning  to  this  temptation  : 
He  simmers  now  in  such  a  pitchy  caldron 
That  he  can  scarce  escape  without  defilement. 
I  shall  not  hurry  him,  nor  broil  myself. 
His  fire  is  hot,  his  loaf  is  leavening  ; 
His  broth  I  '11  brew  before  't  is  evening. 
I  '11  sing  again,  for  now  Zelehtha  's  gone, — 
I  hope  to  heaven,  and  to  stay  there ;  though 
That  is  an  aspiration  for  her  good, 
And  I  do  wish  her  more  than  all  the  evil 
That  ever  yet  befell  or  saint  or  devil. 
Ah  me  1 

SINGS. 

There  was  a  devil  and  his  name  was  I  j 
From  out  Profundus  he  did  cry  : 
He  changed  his  note  as  he  changed  his  coat. 
And  his  coat  was  of  a  varying  dye. 


243 


lExit. 


244  "^^  ^^' 

It  had  many  a  hue  :  in  hell  't  was  blue, 

'T  was  green  i'  the  sea,  and  white  i'  the  sky. 

O,  do  not  ask  me,  ask  me  why 

'T  was  green  i'  the  sea,  and  white  i'  the  sky  ; 

Why  from  Profundus  he  did  cry  : 

Suffice  that  he  wailed  with  a  chirruping  note, 

And  quaintly  cut  was  his  motley  coat.  — 

I  have  forgot  the  rest.     Would  I  could  sleep ; 
Would  I  could  sleep  away  an  age  or  so, 
And  let  Saul  work  out  his  own  weal  or  woe  : 
All  that  I  ask  is  to  be  let  alone. 

SINGS. 

O,  to  be  let  alone  !  to  be  let  alone  ! 

To  laugh  if  I  list ;  if  I  list  to  groan  ; 

Despairing,  yet  knowing  God's  anger  o'erblown. 

O,  why  should  God  trouble  me  ? 

Why  should  he  double  my 

Sorrow,  pursuing  me  when  he  has  thrown 

Me  out  of  his  favor  ?     O,  why  should  he  labor 

Down  lower  ever  thrusting  me  into  hell's  zone  ? 

O  let  me  alone  !    O  let  me  alone  ! 

O  leave  me.  Creator,  Tormentor,  alone ! 

Peace  ;  here  comes  Saul,  more  wretched  than  myself. 

(Saul  enters,  and  slowly  crosses  the  apartment. )     • 

Behold  how  swollen  yet  haggard  is  his  face  ! 

He  doth  remind  me,  as  he  hither  stalks, 

Of  Lucifer,  in  his  pent  anger,  pacing 

Over  the  black  and  burning  floor  of  hell. 

He  's  charged  ;  so  have  worked  in  him  the  last  drops 

That  I  let  fall  L^jon  his  soul.    Woe  now 

To  whomsoe'er  shall  meet  him.     Now  's  my  time  : 

I  '11  enter  him,  that  he  may  work  his  doom. 

And,  peradventure,  I  get  my  release. 


SAUL. 


245 


His  mind's  defences  are  blown  down  by  passion  ; 

And  I  can  enter  him  unchallenged,  as 

A  traveller  does  an  inn,  and,  when  I  'm  there, 

(He  is  himself  so  much  now  like  a  demon,) 

He  will  not  notice  me.     I  will  lie  perdue 

'Tween  his  own  shadow's  bounds  ;  he  will  not  see 

Me,  from  the  very  darkness  of  his  soul. 

I  '11  couch  within  his  gloom,  like  to  a  spark 

Amongst  combustibles.     Again  he  's  pregnant 

Of  an  intent  pernicious  ;  and  a  throe 

Again  I  '11  give  him,  in  a  double  sense, 

To  hasten  his  delivery. 

\As  he  is  going,  Zei'Ho  inters. 

Zepho. 
Hist,  hist! 

Malzah. 

Now,  by  all  things  ill  timed !    Would  that  thy  heel 
Just  now  were  sticking  in  a  trap  of  steel ! 
Wherefore  at  present  com'st  thou  stealing  hither  ? 

Zepho. 

Tell  in  what  kennel  thou  hast  lately  housed  ; 
For,  save  in  that  one,  I  in  all  earth's  corners 
Have  lately  sought  thee.     I  am  come  from  Zaph. 

Malzah. 
Well,  what  wants  Zaph  1 

Zepho. 

To  know  thy  speed. 


Malzah. 

Zepho. 
Zaph  wants  to  know  of  thy  prosperity. 


Thrice  thine. 


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246 


SAUL. 


Malzah. 
I  never  knew  a  devil  that  did  prosper. 

Zepho. 
Now  answer  soberly  :  Zaph  asks  thy  fare. 

Malzah. 

I  never  knew  a  devil  that  fared  better : 
I  feed  on  a  king's  sighs,  do  drink  queen's  tears, 
Am  clothed  with  half  a  nation's  maledictions. 
Am  not  I  a  lucky  fellow  ? 

Zepho. 

Never  saucier. 
How  goes  the  royal  Saul  ? 

Malzah. 

O,  furiously: 
He  from  a  giddy  tower  lately  jumped, 
And  nearly  broke  his  neck  ;  —  he  says  I  threw  him. 

Zepho. 
Leave  him,  and  turn  on  Samuel. 

Malzah. 

'T  were  in  vain. 
I  am  in  thraldom  to  a  heavenly  spirit :  — 
See  where  she  comes  ! 

Zepho. 
It  is  exceeding  bright. 

Malzah. 
So  we  were  once  ;  but  now  how  dim  I 

Zepho. 

There 's  hope 

In  that.    Hast  thou  not  oftentimes  observed 


247 


l£xi'/. 


[E^x/t. 


SA  UL. 

The  snow  upon  some  ever-shining  summit 
Precipitated  to  the  dim  ravine  ? 
So  may  her  order  yet,  for  fault  or  freak, 
From  Heaven  fall  dimming  into  our  dark  hell. 
I  '11  stir  up  Zaph  to  send  unto  thy  rescue. 

Malzah. 

May  Zaph  be  damned  (as  he  assuredly  is) 
For  sending  thee,  his  henchman,  here  to  quiz ! 
{Enter  Zelehtha.) 

I  bade  that  prying  fellow  to  begone  ;  — 
I  'm  diligent  to  be  the  sooner  done. 

Zelehtha. 

I  '11  follow  him,  or  he  '11  o'eract  his  part ; 
Perhaps  destroy  the  man  of  God's  own  heart. 

\Exit,  and  enter  the  QuEEN  and  David. 

David. 

Fear  not  for  me,  although  his  Majesty 
Is  even  as  a  chafed  and  senseless  beast ; 
And  standing  in  his  presence  no  less  risk 
Than  being  with  a  lion  in  its  den  : 
Should  he  again  his  lance  against  me  wield. 
Again  the  Lord  will  be  to  me  a  shield. 

Queen. 

Then  take  thy  station  here  and  ply  thy  harp. 
O  David,  do  thine  uttermost  again 
To  exorcise  from  him  this  evil  spirit. 
Alas,  I  thought  thy  former  minstrelsy, 
And  the  employment  of  these  latter  wars. 
Had  healed  his  soul ;  so  that  a  tranquil  life, 
Except  those  blasts  that  we  expect  to  blow 


sm^^nnnn^rEin^nvraK 


248 


SAUL. 


m 


\<  111 


Around  a  royal  head,  henceforth  were  his. 
Begin,  that  he  may  hear  thee  ere  he  see  thee. 
Strike  that  old  air  composed  before  the  flood, 
And  which  has  often  calmed  his  boiling  blood. 

David. 
I  will  rehearse  that  wild  and  wondrous  air. 
'T  is  said  it  draws  foul  spirits,  since  't  was  played 
Oft  for  them  by  their  human  paramours  ; 
Whom,  when  they  hear  it,  they  believe  returned 
Up  from  the  uncertain  regions  of  the  dead, 
And  so  go  forth  to  meet  them. 

Queen. 

Here  he  comes ; 

Still  armed,  and  now  his  lips  all  dropping  foam. 

I  '11  fly,  for  he  doth  hate  me  in  these  fits.  \Exit, 

(^  javelin  is  hurled  into  the  apartinent  and  sticks  in  the  wall i 
'DhViTi  escapes  as  before.) 

■  Saul  {enterhig). 

After  him,  fiend,  that  sitt'st  within  me.     Forth, 
Infernal  hound,  and  fetch  him.     O  thou  false  one  f 
{Enter the  Queen.) 

Hast  thou  met  David  ?    Hath  he  told  thee  aught  ? 
Bid  him  come  hither  ;  —  or  he  'd  better  hence, 
For  what  I  '11  do  I  '11  do. 

Queen. 

Peace,  peace  ;   O,  peace. 

Saul. 

Ay,  know'st  thou  why  that  trembhng  shaft  is  there  ? 

( The  Queen  draws  the  Javelin  from  the  wall^  and  ihroivs  it 

out  of  the  room.) 


? 


SAUL.  249 

Queen. 
Now,  my  dear  husband,  come  and  take  some  rest. 

Saul. 

Yes,  when  I  've  done  what  I  have  vowed  to  do. 

I  am  beneath  the  tyranny  of  a  vow, 

Which  I  will  honor  whilst  I  am  eclipsed, 

That  I  hereafter  may  have  power  to  plead 

I  did  it  in  the  darkness.  — 'T  is  the  fiend  :  — 

He  darkens,  yet  illuminates,  my  mind, 

Like  the  black  heavens  when  lightnings  ride  the  wind. 

Queen. 
Your  sun  will  shine  anon. 

Saul. 

Tormentor,  no ! 
I  want  it  not  to  shine  ;  let  the  wind  blow. 
Let  me  wreck  all  my  foes,  or  else  be  lost 
Myself  upon  this  black  and  fatal  coast. 
Mad  pilot,  wouldst  thou  see  me  drowned  i'  the  vortex  ?  — 
O,  it  is  I  am  mad  ;  mad,  mad  is  Saul. 

Queen. 
Then,  if  you  know  that  you  are  mad,  at  once 
Confine  yourself  within  your  chamber's  bounds. 
Come,  for  your  slumber  will  betake  you  soon. 
You  will  be  happy  when  the  Spirit 's  gone. 

Saul. 
Gone  !  when  he 's  gone  forever.     When  will 't  be  ? 
When  will  the  hour  of  his  departure  come, 
When  will  he  leave  me  to  return  no  more  ? 

Queen. 

O,  fall  not  thus  away :  —  What,  would  vou  cast 
II* 


250 


SAUL. 


M 


Yourself  upon  the  ground  ?     Fie  !  burdened  care, 
Bent-bodied,  better  is  than  prone  despair. 
Nay,  nay,  revive  ;  why,  even  now  I  spy 
The  faltering  fiend  departing  at  your  eye. 
Be  Saul,  be  Saul,  be  Israel  again. 

Saul. 
Ah,  would  I  were  again  a  quiet  hind  1 

Queen. 

And  leave  your  sovereignty .?    You  sleep,  you  dream. 

Awaken,  Saul,  and  be  your  proper  self; 

Return,  return  from  this  wild  wandering. 

Come  home  ;  your  Troubler  's  gone  :  come  home.  — 

O,  fill  that  horrid  blank  upon  your  face ; 

Tear  off  therefrom  that  veil  of  lunacy ; 

O,  cast  that  eye-bewildered  stupor :  Saul, 

Shake  off  this  creeping,  death-like  lethargy. 

What,  will  you  never  be  tcr  sense  recalled .'' 

Help  me,  ye  angels  ;  help,  Jehovah.  —  Saul, 

What  are  your  thoughts  "i     Know  you  not  where  you  are  ? 

You  are  outside  yourself,  are  disembodied  ;  — 

O,  put  your  soul  into  that  emptied  frame ! 

Get  from  the  weather  ;  get  within  yourself. 

Why  stand  you  thus  beneath  unsheltering  eaves, 

Amidst  a  deluge  of  dread,  pelting  thoughts  ? 

Come  in,  come  in,  poor  King,  into  thyself;  — 

Saul,  Saul ;  —  O,  do  not  look  so  lost ;  O,  let  me 

Now  lead  you  back  to  recollection  :  lo,  't  is  I ; 

Lo,  you  are  here  though  much  perplexed  :  behold 

You  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  yourself, 

Yet  know  it  not ;  look  on  it,  't  is  yet  fair ; 

Enter,  and  you  shall  find  its  furnishing 

Is,  even  yet.  such  as  becomes  a  king. 


SAUL.  251 

Saul. 

Nay,  I  am  but  a  puppet,  not  a  king. 
Kings  are  supreme  and  uncontrolled,  but  I 
Am  under  horrid  slavery  to  a  being 
That  I  despise  and  loathe. 

Queen. 

Forget  it  now. 
Come,  come  at  once  to  bed. 

Saul. 

Ahinoam, 
Although  I  must  acknowledge  some  past  faults, 
Can  God  permit  this  outrage  yet  be  just  ? 

Queen. 

Renew  not  your  old  reasonings,  but  come 
And  take  the  sleep  that  follows  on  your  fit. 

Saul. 

Fit,  fit !  my  fit !  't  is  strange  that  this  should  seem  fit :  — 

Why,  had  I  killed  him  in  my  fit,  it  would 

Have  been  down  written  murder;  yes,  and  Samuel, 

And  haply  this  malicious  goblin  too. 

Staying  my  passage  to  a  city  of  refuge. 

Had  haled  me  back  into  Jehovah's  wrath, 

And  Tophet  of  my  conscience.     Ahinoam, 

There  's  something  wrong  in  this  recurring  fit : 

I  will  investigate  it,  I  will  dare 

To  question  more  than  e'er  I  've  done  as  yet ; 

Yes,  I  will  question  on  till  I  am  answered. 

Queen. 

Cease  raving,  Saul,  and  come  ;  your  mind  needs  rest. 
And  not  the  contemplation  of  an  inquest. 


252 


SAUL. 


t\ 


Which,  to  the  coolest,  most  impartial  stranger, 
Had  need  upconjurc  a  black  pause  of  caution, 
Like  to  a  ghost,  to  awe  him  from  the  inquiry. 

Saul. 

No  ghost  shall  thus  awe  me ;  for  I  have  known, 

Yea,  oft  have  in  me,  an  upconjurcd  ghost. 

More  dreadful  far  than  any  human  terror, 

And  am  not  yet  affrighted.     What,  shall  I 

Not  ask  from  whence  this  comes  ?     Shall  I  accept 

Evil,  nor  seek  to  know  its  origin  ? 

Shall  I  be  dumb  because  great  Samuel 's  spoken  ? 

No !     I  '11  demand,  I  will  seek  satisfaction  ; 

I  will  have  some,  though  bitter,  theory  :  — 

Yea,  I  already  to  my  soul  have  such 

Obtained  by  fearless  thinking.     It  is  magic  ; 

Magic,  malicious  magic  ;  it  is  Samuel 

Leagued  with  the  remnant  of  the  sorcerers. 

Stand  not  aghast  at  my  accusing  him : 

I  would  accuse  the  high,  majcstir:  heavens, 

I  would  accuse  the  blue,  ethereal  a'r. 

If,  when  from  my  ablutions  forth,  I  found 

My  person  sudden  smirched  ;  —  say,  wouldst  not  thou  ? 

Queen. 

I  would  not  dare  accuse  the  sacred  seer 
Of  falsehood  and  deception. 

Saul. 

Then  thou  wi 
Accuse  thy  husband.     Well,  so  let      ^^ 
No  fond  respect  shall  stifle  my  s 
Prophets  are  not  beyond  the  frea        t  poor, 
Affronted  mortals,  any  more  than  kiiigs. 
Why  dost  thou  look  upon  me  thus  alarmed  ? 


ii. 


SA  UL. 


253 


Thou  wouldst  expostulate  ?     No,  no,  't  is  vain  ; 

I  will  not  hear  even  thee  :   I  Ml  march  right  onward, 

Nor  list  to  any  charming  ;  I  '11  escape  ; 

And  I  will  punish,  too,  ♦"or  what 's  been  done ; 

I  '11  come  upon  my  secret  enemies, 

And  scatter  them  and  their  vile  incantations. 


Queen. 
O,  is  the  gannit  of  your  heart  played  over? 

Saul. 

Not  yet,  not  yet.     I  have  a  clang  of  discords 
Yet  for  thine  ear.     By  hell,  it  makes  me  fierce 
To  hear  the  cant  of  silly  dames  and  priests. 
Those  talk  of  right,  and  charge  great  heaven  with  wrong ; 
These  dribble  on  my  head  their  verbal  spite, 
And  say  't  is  thunder  of  heaven's  waterspouts  ; 
Those  honor  me,  yet  count  me  reprobate  ; 
These  send  unto  my  soul  a  foul  access. 
And  name  it  the  evil  spirit  from  the  Lord. 
Out,  out !  shall  I  be  silenced  and  beguiled 
By  a  chicanery  that  drives  me  wild  ? 
Wife,  I  am  sane  at  present,  though  uncivil ; 
But  these  reflections  half  bring  back  my  devil. 
Methinks  I  hear  him  humming  round  my  head  : 
Old  hornet,  cease.     Wife,  lead  to  bed,  to  bed  :  — 
Would  I  could  sleep,  —  would,  would  that  I  were  dead. 

\Excunt. 


"I 

I-' " 
111; 


254  SAUL. 


SCENE    III. 

Saul's  bedchamber.      Saul  asleep  and  chahied  upon  a  bed. 
Time^  night.     A  lamp  burning.     Enter  Malzah. 

Malzah. 

He  is  now  sleeping,  but  his  fervent  brow 

Is  all  meandered  o'er  by  swollen  veins. 

Across  his  temple  one  appears  nigh  bursting. 

He  breathes,  too,  heavy,  and  a  feeble  moan 

I  hear  within  him  ;  showing  that  his  soul 

(Like  to  a  child  that 's  wept  itself  to  sleep) 

Even  in  slumber  doth  retain  its  trouble. 

I  'm  loath  again  to  rack  him  ;  but  I  will, 

For  I  am  desperate  to  escape  from  thrall. 

I  will  breathe  hotly  on  hii  countenance, 

And  when  he  wakes  and  doth  cry  out  for  water,  — 

Which  I  will  make  his  servants  slow  in  bringing,  — 

I  '11  enter  him  'midst  his  vociferations, 

And  goad  him  back  to  madness. 

{Approaches  the  King.  ) 

Saul. 
O,  leave  me,  foul  fiend  ! 

Malzah. 
He  dreams. 


Thou  art  not  from  God. 


Saul. 

Malzah. 
Alas,  I  am. 


m 


SAUL.  255 

Saul. 
I  have  long  thee  withstood. 

Malzah. 

Boast  not  too  much. 

Saul. 
Depart  from  me,  horrible  presence  ! 

Malzah  {advancing  nearer). 

'T  is  the  wind  that  hath  blown  me  against  thee  ;  't  is  fate 
That  I  and  thou  thus  for  a  season  should  mate. 

[Having  breathed  upon  Saul's  face. ) 

I  love  thee  not,  and  yet  too  much  I  love  thee, 
To  do  my  work  effectually,  I  fear. 

{Breathes  on  him  again). 
There,  there. 

Saul. 

O,  to  be  pent  in  hell !  I  suffocate. 

Veer,  winds  that  from  the  red  equator  scorch  me, 

And  let  the  north  blow  on  no  till  I  shiver. 

Ah,  for  an  avalanche  of  snow  !     Fall,  flakes, 

And  blind  me  ;  cover  me  up,  drifts  ;  freeze,  freeze. 

Seize  on  me,  blast,  and  hurl  me  into  winter. 

Malzah. 

Again  I  '11  breathe  upon  him. 

{Breathes  upon  him.) 

Saul. 

Full  threescore  fiends  and  ten,  each  with  a  spear, 
Half  molten,  and  thrust  through  me  from  behind, 
Chased  me  all  up  the  burning  lane  from  hell. 
Some  water,  water,  ho !     Ah,  here  again  ! 


1  i 

i 

,  I 
■  1 


256 


SA  UL. 


Each  with  his  brand  swept  through  me,  and  uispersed 
Now  all  of  them  back  hissing. 

{^Waking.) 

Water !  water ! 
What  ho,  bring  hither  water !    Is  there  none 
To  watch  me  ?    Jonathan  ;  what,  Michal,  Merab  ;  — 
Ahinoam  gone  too !     O,  ye  are  all 
Forgetful  of  me,  and  my  children  take 
Their  ease  and  pastime  whilst  their  father's  dying. 
Some  water,  water !  —  O,  to  breathe  upon 
Carmel  or  Ararat !     Clouds,  burst  upon 
My  bosom,  as  upon  their  heads  ye  burst : 
Pour  on  my  head,  ye  waterspouts  :  cataracts, 
Dash  down  my  throat  and  turn  me  to  an  ocean.  — 
Ah,  will  there  be  no  rain  again,  no  dew  ? 
To  the  dank  vineyard  !  let  me  go  and  wallow, 
Suck  out,  and  trample  out  the  freshness.     Chained  1 
( Writhes  furiously  to  break  the  chain.) 

Malzah. 

I  '11  enter  him  now,  but  not  to  do  him  evil. 
But,  out  of  ruth,  to  help  him  snap  his  chain. 

[Malzah  vanishes  ;  and  Saul,  having  broken  his  chain, 
rushes  out. 

Malzah  {again  visible). 

I  am  not  lazy,  but  I  loathe  to  do 

The  work  of  Heaven.  —  Ah,  here  comes  my  lady  ! 

I  '11  hide  myself  in  Saul.  \Exit  in  haste. 

Zelehtha  {entering. 

How  quickly  the  defaulter  flees  away  1 
The  fitful  fiend  !     I  knew  him  once  in  heaven, 
And  none  more  diligent  and  adroit  than  he  ; 
None  warmer  in  their  worship.    Yet,  even  then, 


SAUL. 


257 


This  spirit  was  to  speculation  given, 

And  curious  questionings  on  themes  that  lie 

Beyond  the  reach  of  finite  thought.  —  Poor  wretch  ! 

He  lived  in  good  alone,  yet  souglit  the  source 

Of  evil,  until  evil  to  him  came  ;  — 

The  Essence  sought,  that  never  came  of  search, 

But  bides  still  in  the  bosom  of  belief. 

In  seeking  what  he  had,  he  all  things  lost, 

And  found  but  misery.     Into  his  soul, 

Of  reverence  forsaken,  entered  fear ; 

For  peace  came  trouble,  and  for  joy,  distress. 

A  sad  exchange  !  for  love  came  loathing  ;  guilt 

Thus  came,  and  dread  ;  and,  last,  despair. 

At  first,  self-tempted,  he  became  a  prey 

To  the  Arch-Tempter  ;  with  him,  quenched,  went  down 

Into  the  pit,  from  whence  escaped  he  comes, 

And  here  on  earth  the  moments  much  misspends 

In  moody  merriment  or  sullen  rage  ; 

And,  fierce  assaulting  him  by  fits,  forgets 

To  do  true  judgment  on  the  soul  of  Saul. 

I  '11  follow  him,  and  see  that  he  obeys.  \Exit 


SCENE   IV. 

A  vineyard.     The  moon  shitting.    Enter  Saul,  struggling  with 

Malzah. 

Saul. 
Creature,  begone,  nor  harrow  me  with  horror! 
Thine  eyes  are  stars  ;  O,  cover  them,  O,  wrap 
Them  up  within  thy  cloudy  brows  :  stand  off, 
Contend  not  with  me,  but  say  who  thou  art. 
Lo  !  I  am  Saul,  the  sad.  demoniac  king, 


HI 


ii; 


1 

3 


iJ  f 


S 


2=;8 


SAUL. 


13ut  who  art  thou,  strange,  yet  familiar  ? 

Methinks  I  know  thee,  —  yes,  thou  art  my  demon  ; 

Thou  art  the  demon  that  torments  my  soul. 

I  charge  thee  say,  mysterious  visitant, 

At  whose  behest  thou  comest,  and  for  what 

Offences  deep  of  mine  :  nay,  stand  aloof: 

Confess,  malicious  goblin,  or  else  leave  me ; 

Leave  me,  O  goblin,  till  my  hour  is  come : 

I  '11  meet  thee  after  death  ;  appoint  the  place  ; 

On  Gilead,  or  beside  the  flowing  Jordan  ; 

Or,  if  parts  gloomier  suit  thee,  I  '11  repair 

Down  into  Hinnom,  or  up  to  the  top 

Of  Horeb  in  the  v^Ilderness,  or  to  the  cloud- 

Concealdd  height  of  Sinai  ascend, 

Or  dwell  with  thee  'midst  darkness  in  the  grave. 

{Enter  Zelehtha,  invisible  to  Saui-.) 

Malzah. 
I  cannot  enter  him  now  ;  he  does  so  set 
And  close  his  soul  against  me.     Thou  art  not  angry  ? 
Give  me  commandment,  and  I  now  will  rend 
His  body  into  fragments,  and  let  out 
His  soul,  for  thee  to  do  with  what  thou  wilt. 
{Crawling  abjectly  tcnuards  her  feet.) 
I  will  obey  thee  in  whate'er  thou  biddest  me, 
So  thou  wilt  look  less  stern.     Shall  I  to  hell, 
And  take  him  with  me  living,  as  to  heaven 
Went  Enoch  ?  or  shall  I  put  poison  in 
His  food,  or  hang  him  on  a  bough  ?  or  may  I 
Entice  him  to  his  highest  turret's  top. 
And  cast  him  thencefrom  ?  or,  in  human  guise, 
Insult  him  (for  he  is  both  brave  and  choleric, 
And  quails  not  at  the  wrath  of  any  man) 
Until  he  draw  his  sword,  when  I  will  pierce  him, 


SAUL. 

Right  through  his  heart,  in  quick  and  angry  duel  ? 
I  pray  you  let  me  finish  him,  sweet  mistress. 
Shall  I  provoke  him  to  excess  in  wine, 
Until  he  die  of  fever  and  delirium  ? 
P'd  me  to  rise  and  work  ;  for  aught  I  '11  do 
To  pleasure  heaven  iind  be  dismissed  by  you. 
I  pray  thee  let  me  hurl  him  'gainst  the  moon, 
And  leave  him  there  to  pine,  and  freeze,  and  shiver 
Till  he  expire  ;  or  be  it  his  hell  forever. 


259 


Come. 


Zelehtha. 
Malzah. 


I  implore  thee  let  me  kill  him  first !  — 
It  cannot  be  that  he  shall  live  much  longer ; 
Behold  how  gaunt  he  is.     He  would  have  killed 
David,  and,  by  God's  law,  the  murderer 
Devoted  is  to  death  ;  so  do  thou  make  mei 
God's  instrument  of  justice  ;  O,  be  thou 
Just  unto  David,  and  to  me  show  mercy. 

{Arising,  and  follcnuing  Zelehtha.) 

(Aside.)  Inexorable  angel,  it  were  bliss  to  curse  thee  I 

[L'xfuni  Malzah  and  Zelehtha. 

Saul. 

'T  is  strange,  most  strange :  how  strange  was  its  de- 
meanor ! 
Would  I  had  had  the  power  to  make  it  speak. 
Albeit  of  mischief  it  leered  forth  a  volume. 
Or  had  I  seen  it  sooner,  that  I  might 
Have  known  from  whence  it  issued  ;  whether  it 
Came  from  the  fabled  pit,  straight  through  the  earth, 
Emerging  even  at  my  very  feet,  or 
Glode  level  o'er  the  lea  like  a  marsh-meteor, 


26o 


SAUL. 


Or  down  the  air  shot  like  a  falling  star. 

'T  was  as  fantastic  as  a  thing  of  moonbeams, 

And  looked  most  wicked  ;  't  is  a  son  of  murk, 

Both  by  its  mien  and  by  its  baneful  work. 

How  it  did  come  I  know  not  ;  but,  at  last, 

It  did  appear  to  address  itself  to  some  one, 

And  crawled  till  it  lay  prone  and  agitated  ; 

Then  rose  and  glided  hence,  like  to  a  vapor 

Attracted  towards  a  cranny  by  a  draft. 

I  ■shudder  yet ;  —  but  how  have  I  grown  steeled, 

To  have  kept  my  senses  in  hell's  very  clutch  ! 

Be  still,  ye  trembling  limbs  ;  post,  fearful  hour, 

Into  oblivion's  arms  ;  perish,  evil  day, 

And  be  no  portion  of  eternity. 

Thou  dawn'dst  in  fear,  and  hast  expired  in  horror. 

0  let  me  say  no  more  upon  this  theme  : 

1  could  say  impious  things  ;  could  pour  derision 
On  prophets,  I  who  've  twice  myself  had  vision. 
Let  me  within  ;  yet  not  attempt  to  sleep, 

Lest  yonder  creature  'twixt  my  curtains  peep. 


\Exit 


w 


SCENE  V. 


IJi' 


^! 


A  ft  apartment  in  the  palace. 

Saul. 

If,  in  my  fiend-fraught  frenzy,  I  had  killed  him, 

It  had  been  well  ;  't  had  not  my  conscience  burdened, 

Yet  lightened  much  my  heart.     'T  is  heavy  yet, 

For  my  presentiment  is  not  unfounded. 

My  sudden  aversion  to  him  is  an  instinct, 

Trustworthier  than  is  fair  inference 


SAUL. 


26t 


From  his  past  services.    Why  do  I  feel 

This  else  irrational  dislike  of  him  ; 

That  shameful  and  unmanly  dread,  yea,  even 

Horror,  when  he  is  present,  save  from  that 

Intuitive  and -warning  sense  of  peril, 

Which,  even  whilst  we  are  disporting  with  it, 

Prompts  us  to  kill  or  cage  the  toothless  cub, 

Ere  it  become  the  fanged,  terrific  lion  ? 

I  once  was  but  a  herdsman,  as  he  lately 

Was  but  a  shepherd.     The  wide  distances 

Between  our  first  conditions  and  the  throne 

Are  equal  ;  and  Samuel  hath  withdrawn  from  me 

Disloyally,  whilst  half  the  people's  hearts 

Go  with  him  wheresoever  he  doth  lead  them. 

May  he  not  lead  them  to  this  martial  shepherd  ? 

Nay,  they  are  there  already  !     Those  accursed, 

Choral,  and  tripping  nymphs  proclaimed  it.     Now 

All  charmed  away  is  disagreement's  spirit ; 

Which,  in  excess,  is  still  a  nation's  weakness. 

But,  in  due  measure,  is  the  monarch's  strength. 

His  popularity  exceeds  all  meed, 

That  such  strange  concord  of  opinion 

Was  never  heard  before  in  Israel, 

Till  one  long  note  of  praise  rolls  through  the  land, 

None  making  dissonance  ;  and  spirits  such 

As  at  my  own  election  scorning  asked, 

"  Can  this  man  save  us  ?  "  laboring  'neath  the  spell, 

Either  hang  mute  or  join  the  general  hum. 

I  have  heard  say  (and  I  do  half  believe  it) 

That  apprehension  brings  its  apprehending. 

And  so  the  javelin's  flight,  combined  with  those 

Bold,  dancing  sluts'  exaggerated  praise. 

Come  to  him  doubly  hinting  :  fear  and  hope  ;  — 

The  latter  shows  to  him  a  shining  entrance  ; 


-  I 

1 


262 


SA  UL. 


The  former,  like  a  frightened  idiot 

Hurled  on  him  from  behind,  impels  him  through  it 

That  maidens'  chant  may  have  inspired  ambition. 

Ah,  now  the  film  seems  falling  from  mine  eyes ! 

How  know  I  but  that  the  capricious  creature, 

Who  visits  me  and  gives  me  up  to  passion, 

Intended,  by  this  foul  attack  on  David, 

To  goad  him  into  treason  ?     May  not  now 

Self-preservation  prompt  him  to  rebel  ? 

Fuel  he  had  before,  now  he  has  fire, 

For  that  suggestive  chant  may  have  brought  in, 

Unto  his  opening  soul,  the  fagots  of 

Ambition,  and  this  fiend  of  burning  hell, 

Couched  in  the  flying  javelin,  have  swept  after, 

And  put  into  his  hand  a  torch  of  hope 

Wherewith  to  kindle  them.     Now  let  me  dig 

Within  myself  for  a  distasteful  truth. 

As  flame  cannot  exist  without  the  air, 

So  neither  can  ambition  without  hope  ;  — 

Hope  which  this  creature  of  the  deep  hath  given  him, 

That  he  therewith  may  grow  all  warm  and  light, 

Whilst  I  more  dark  and  cold.     It  was  a  sad 

Unlucky  deed,  that  of  the  other  day ! 

Now,  doubtless,  he  is  conscious  that  I  fear  him  ; 

And  as  a  word,  dropped  in  a  hurried  moment. 

Will  suddenly  reveal  a  weighty  secret, 

So  he  will  now  my  jealousy  surmise. 

Know  we  not,  by  the  enemy's  double  guards. 

The  weak  points  of  his  camp  ?     So  David  now 

Shall  have  perceived  where  I  am  vulnerable. 

Ah,  it  is  hard  to  overcome  dark  dread  ! 

I  know  that  God  is  with  him,  and  suspect 

He  hath  deserted  me,  or  I  'd  ne'er  feared. 

I  '11  end  this  dread  of  David,  though  I  may 


SAUL. 


2r>3 


Have  called  up  a  chiipera  to  torment  me. 
Hither  he  comes  :  I  'm  loath,  yet  I  will  do  it. 

{Enter  David.) 

In  a  good  time  thou  'rt  come  ;  wc  were  of  thee 
Communing  with  ourselves.     Thou  shall  have  Merab, 
Our  eldest  daughter,  given  thee  to  wife  ; 
Only  do  thou  be  valiant,  and  fight 
Jehovah's  battles  for  us.     Art  content  ? 

David. 

Too  well,  your  Majesty,  am  I  content ;  — 
Already  am  too  well  repaid  ;  far,  far 
Too  well  rewarded  ;  I,  who  seek  no  more 
Than  simply  here  to  serve  the  King,  and  still 
Go  out  to  fight  Jehovah's  battles.     Then 
Press  me  not  to  accept,  too  gracious  King, 
This  honor ;  what  am  I,  and  what  indeed, 
My  life,  or  what  my  family,  thai  I 
Should  seem  unto  my  sovereign  to  deserve 
To  be  his  son-in-law  ? 

Saul. 

But  we  did  promise  't 
To  him  who  should  despatch  the  Giant  Philistine. 
But  the  Philistines  even  yet  are  giants  ; 
And  do  thou  aid  me  by  thy  skill  and  valor, 
Till  we  have  dwarfed  them  into  common  men  ; 
For,  by  Jehovah  and  their  own  great  Dagon, 
We  swear  that  we  will  humble  the  aggressors  ; 
Nor  shall  there  be  between  us  peace,  till  we 
Have  bound  them  to  the  shores  of  their  own  main. 
Thou  dost  not  answer  us :  —  why,  chen,  be  dumb  ; 
And,  growing  in  arms,  our  wish  towards  thee  shall 
come. 


264 


SAUL. 


We  have  determined,  and  the  force  and  worth 

Of  our  resolves  thou  knovvest.  —  Let  us  forth. 

{Aside).  The  worst  is  passed ;  and  I  will  order  so, 

He  shall  his  death  to'  the  Philistines  owe. 

[Exeunt. 


u 


ACT    IV. 


SCENE    I. 
A  room  in  the  palace.     Enter  Jokiel.  and  Jared. 

JOKIEL, 

Methinks  this  is  about  the  time  that  Mcrab 
Should  have  been  given  to  David  unto  wife. 

Jared. 

That  time  is  passed,  and  David  Httle  cares. 
I  tell  thee  David  wishes  not  to  wear 
His  earned  honor  ;  —  whether  of  humility 
It  come,  or  if  from  policy,  I  know  not. 

Jokiel. 

Art  thou  not  young  ?     Dost  thou  not  look  abroad 
With  eyes  that  have  but  recently  begun 
To  rub  their  smoothness  'gainst  the  roughening  world,  - 
As  the  bright  buttons  of  thy  tunic  rubbed 
Against  the  desk  whereat  thou  satt'st  in  school,  — 
And  are  they  now  so  dull  ?     O,  blind,  like  all 
This  last  generation  !     Why,  man,  the  old  cat 
Can  mouse  a  secret,  yet,  out  of  its  hole, 
And  play  with  it,  and  kill  and  eat  it  too, 


266 


SAUL. 


b-:,-. 


Before  you  youths  can  smell  it.     Listen  now  : 

Nine  days  are  kittens  blind,  and  that 's  the  term 

Which,  from  creation,  the  whole  mousincj  race 

Have  ta'en  to  suck  and  mew  and  meditnte, 

In  darkness,  on  the  days  to  thorn  to  com(> ; 

An  1  the  whole  breed  which  Tab  produced  to-day 

Will  see  as  clearly  at  their  nine  days'  end, 

As  did  the  primitive  engendering 

(That,  as  then  sin  and  death  were  not  i'  the  world, 

Did  not  exist,  indeed,  for  mousing  ends, 

Nor  cost  their  dams  the  grief  of  yeaning  throes) : 

But  not  so  with  these  days'  degenerate  children  ; 

For,  now,  the  darksome  hours  of  infancy 

Stretch  into  youth,  and  it  is  manhood's  noon 

Ere  they  can  sec  what  lies  beneath  their  noses. 

Pick  up  that  pin,  I  pray  ihce,  for  it  fell 

Out  of  thy  sweetheart's  bodice,  —  yea,  it  did. 

Fie,  fie ;  there  are  but  two  bright  youths  in  Israel, — 

Jonathan,  one  called,  David,  t'other.     Jared, 

Lend  me  the  oyster- shell  of  thy  right  ear, 

And  in  't  I  '11  whisper  thee  a  secret  pearl. 

David  desires  not  Merab  ;  but  if  Michal 

Were  offered  him,  't  would  warm  his  seeming  coldness, 

And,  to  the  very  sea-marge  of  his  neck,  — 

Like  to  the  tide  up  to  the  ocean's  brim, 

At  evening,  'neath  the  low  and  crimson  sun, — 

Would  cause  blush  out  to  view  his  simmering  blood. 

I  see  thou  'rt  dark  as  ever :  what  wilt  give  me, 

Cock  of  the  morning,  blind- worm  of  the  dew. 

To  send  swift  dawn  athwart  thine  ignorance'  night  ? 

Thou  dwell'st  in  midnight,  boy  ;  —  nay,  more,  thou  canst 

not 
Tell  me  the  hour :  or  whether  it  be  midnight, 
Or  whether  it  be  noon.     What  is  thy  wealth  ? 


SAUL.  267 

What  is  the  gross  of  all  thy  substance  ?     Comt*, 
Tell  me  the  fee  that  thou  canst  yield  to  him 
Who  will  withdraw  the  swaddles  frcm  thine  eyes, 
And  leave  thee  staring  in  the  light  of  heaven  ? 

Jared. 
I  'd  give  to  him  the  swaddles. 

JOKIEL. 

Wouldst  thou  ?     Well ; 
But  what  if  he  'd  not  take  them  ? 

Jared. 

Let  them  lie. 

JOKIEL. 

Thou  liest,  Son  of  Midnight :  thou  wouldst  keep  them  ; 
The  parings  of  thy  nails  are  precious  to  thee. 

Jared. 
As  is  thy  secret  unto  thee ;  —  thou  keep'st  it. 

JOKIEL. 

And  shall,  until  thou  draw'st  it  forth :  come,  man, 
Divine,  divine  ;  —  what,  Jared,  Jared,  what ! 
Hast  thou  no  vision  1  hast  no  eyes,  no  ears  ? 
No  intuitions,  —  none  ? 

Jared. 

Concerning  David, 
I  have  myself  remarked  the  specialty 
Of  his  respect  towards  Michal.     What  he  doth 
For  Merab  and  for  all  the  royal  house. 
He  doth  sevenfold  for  Michal,  and  delights  in 
The  supererogation. 


'' 


268 


SAUL. 


JOKIEL, 

There  thou  hast  it ;  — 
But  I  am  doting  surely ;  yea,  I  dote 
Now,  verily,  to  talk  thus  unto  thee. 
This  is  no  theme  for  runners  of  the  palace, 
Who  straight  will  run  it  o'er  all  Gibeah. 
It  is  not  meet  that  I  along  with  thee 
Should  crony  thi!S,  and  take  thy  swinish  ear. 
It  is  not  meet,  that,  touching  David,  I 
Therein,  like  wavelets  purling  o'er  a  shell. 
Should  hint,  assert,  and,  with  prophetic  tongue, 
Declare  what  will  be,  or,  at  least,  what  might  be, 
If.  (mly  those  stern-humored  household  gods. 
Fathers,  were  kind.  —  Son,  I  speak  feehngly  ; 
Myself  have  beer*  i'  the  Giant-killer's  case. 
And  could  have  wished  the  nymph  of  my  desires 
Would  have  betasked  me  lil'e  a  very  slave. 
Yea,  sent  me  into  Egypt  to  make  bricks, 
Provided  that  I  might  have  thence  returned. 
And  baked  them  in  the  sunsaine  of  her  eyes. 
I  could  have  wished  most  terrible  strange  things ; 
Yea,  most  preposterous  metamorphoses  : 
She  unto  me  a  liv>ness,  and  I,  to  her. 
Her  sole  provider,  —  ay,  her  very  jackal; 
She,  unto  me,  some  rich,  luxurious  land, 
And  I  to  her,  as  its  entire  flotilla. 
That,  driven  by  oa"  or  hugged  along  with  wind, 
Unto  its  shores  brought  tribute.     Lo,  the  King. 

Jared. 

He  sent  me  from  him  to  perform  an  errand. 

[Exii,  and  enter  Saul. 
Saul. 

Why  lingered  Jared  with  thee }  —  he  was  sent 

On  business  for  Michal,  who  lacks  patience. 


SAUL. 


269 


JOKIEL. 

He's  young,  your  Majesty,  and  youth  will  have 

Its  gibes  at  tacit  age.     Your  Majesty, 

Ere  now,  hath  doubtless  seen  an  urchin  raise 

A  stone  to  throw  at  some  poor  harmless  thing : 

A  dove  it  may  have  been,  or,  likelier, 

Cat  (and  I  own  unto  your  Majesty 

That  I,  i.i  yout}:,  ihe  latter  have  tormented). 

That  crossed  his  path,  or  whor.c  himself  he  crossed, 

Wandering  to  school,  or  on  forgotten  errand. 

Even  as  wanton  boys  will  m'^siles  fling 

At  dove,  or  dog,  or  an  espidd  cat, 

So  passing  youth,  will  jests  fling  at  meek  age. 

Your  Majesty,  I  know,  will  pardon  me 

This  bold  recital  and  high  colloquy, 

Wherein  my  tongue  copes  with  your  royal  ear 

('T  was  folly,  true,  in  me  to  return  't  in  kind). 

But  the  green  fledghng  who  just  went  from  hence 

('T  was  folly,  certainly,  to  talk  at  all 

In  svh  nice  matter),  yet  we  talked  of  Michal, 

And  how  that  David  secretly  admires  her, 

In  secret  pines,  but  dares  not  dream  to  have  her. 

Saul. 

Thou  art  officious,  and  thyself  concernest 

With  things  that  are  beyond  thee.     Go  ;  the  Queen 

Was  asking  for  thee.     Probably  she  warns 

From  thee  some  tale,  whose  telling  may  bring  back 

The  slumber  that  has  laiC  forsaken  her. 

A'.tend  her,  but  talk  not  to  her  of  David. 

\Exit  JOKIEL. 

I  '11  offer  Michal  to  him  for  a  snare  ; 

And  love  shall  lead  him  hoodwinked  to  his  death : 

For,  as  her  dowry,  I  will  ask  a  hundred 


J 


270  '  SAUL. 

Foreskins  of  the  Philistines.     He  shall  fall 

Yet  by  their  hands,  not  mine.     Welcome  to  Saul. 

{Enter  a  Minister  of  state.) 

Saul. 

Because  we  know  thee  powerful  in  persuasion, 
We  shall  employ  thee  in  a  delicate  case, 
'Twixt  Michal  and  our  favorite  captain,  David. 
Preamble  it  as  thou  wilt ;  say  so  and  so  ;  — 
Say  all  the  house  of  Saul  admire  and  love  him  ; 
Say  that  the  Queen 's  his  friend  (as  well  he  knows), 
And  Michal  too  affects  him  ;  that  ourselves 
(Whatever  may  have  seemed  to  the  reverse) 
Regard  him  with  all  favor  :  tell  him  this. 
And  counsel  him  to  be  our  son-in-law. 
Now  to  him  straight,  for  he  is  ruminating 
There  yonder  in  the  garden.     Speak  not,  go. 

{Exit  Minister. 
Let  me  not  dwell  upon  this  ugly  theme  ; 
I  love  him  though  I  act  as  if  I  hated. 
'T  is  not  my  nature,  yet 't  is  from  my  nature, 
To  which  self-preservation  is  a  law  :  — 
Nor  more  its  law  than  't  is  the  law  of  heaven, 
To  Moses'  added,  making  up  eleven. 
Sad  is  the  fate  that  does  to  this  compel  me ! 
Sad,  sad  that  he  must  be  pushed  on  to  slaughter ;  — 
As  sad  to  sacrifice  my  favorite  daughter.  {Exit. 


■  '  ■* 


l.il 


SAUL. 


171 


In  the  garden. 


SCENE   II. 

Enter  the  Minister  and  David  conversing 

earnestly. 


Minister. 

Nay,  hear  me  further,  and  then  answer  me. 

Is  't  not  the  highest  duty  of  the  subject 

To  obey  his  king .? 

David. 

Doubtless  it  is,  my  lord. 
Granted  the  king  command  not  aught  forbidden. 

Minister. 
Even  to  the  risking  of  that  subject's  hfe  ? 

David. 
Such  risk  being  for  the  king's  or  country's  good. 

Minister. 

How  much  more,  then,  when  such  obedience 

Is  for  that  subject's  honor  and  the  land's 

Great  weal  ?    List :  Saul  affects  thee,  though  thou  wert 

By  him  passed  by  in  Merab,  whom,  he  knew, 

Thou  lov'dst  not,  so  declined  to  recompense  thee 

In  coin  of  her,  which,  if  he  had  done,  would 

But  have  defrauded  thee,  to  whom  her  value 

Came  not  at  its  full  standard  :  he  affects  thee,  — 

Whatever  to  the  contrary  has  seemed,  — 

And  all  the  royal  house  admire  and  love  thee ; 

Her  Majesty,  and  (what  is  of  much  weight) 

Not  Jonathan  alone,  but  all  Saul's  sons. 

Do  thou  accept,  then,  should  Saul  offer  thee 


272 


SAUL. 


'•'  !   ' 


ii 


(As  I  believe  it  is  his  gracious  will) 
The  buxom,  and  yet  proud  and  dainty,  Michal, 
Who,  though  she  wears  no  longing  in  her  looks, 
It  is  surmised  in  secret  pines  for  thee. 

David. 

And  thinkest  thou  it  light  for  one  like  me, 
Poor,  and  inheriting  but  some  few  sheep. 
To  mate  in  wedlock  with  the  royal  house, 
That  for  its  purse  doth  hold  a  kingdom's  coffers  ? 

Minister. 

There 's  weight  in  that ;  but  it  may  be  removed,     . 

If  all  the  parties  to  the  noble  contract  — 

Thyself,  the  people,  and  the  house  of  Saul  — 

Should  will  it  :  for  what  could  withstand  such  triple 

Engine  of  lovers'  hearts  and  parents'  soul, 

With  nation  helping  it  away  to  roll  ? 

No  more  at  present;  I  will  now  begone, 

But  talk  upon  this  subject  more  anon.  [Exit 

David. 

I  do  love  Michal,  and  could  go  tend  sheep 
Again  at  Bcth-lehcm,  might  she  go  with  me. 
O  selfish  David,  wouldst  thou  then  debase  her  ? 
Wouldst  thou  then  cheat  the  King,  her  royal  father  ? 
Who  knoweth  not  the  worth  of  his  quick  jewel. 
To  which  his  palace  is  the  setting  ring. 
She  burnishes  the  ingot  of  his  court ; 
Yea,  wheresoever  in  the  court  she  moves, 
Dispenses  riches  from  her  dazzling  beauty. 
Till  all  flames  like  a  mine.  —  I  fear  to  indulge 
What  so  surpasses  my  late  wildest  wish  ; 
For  to  be  paid  with  her  would  overpay  me. 


Sa  ul. 

This  is  the  King's.     He  surely  would  not  trifle 
With  me  in  Michal  as  in  Merab  !     Nay, 
If  he  should  ask  me,  I  will  e'en  say,  yea. 


273 


\_Exit. 


SCENE    III. 
The  royal  closet.     Saul  and  the  Ministkr. 

Saul. 

Tell  him  that  we  require  no  other  dower 

Than  that  which  he  can  give,  —  a  hundred  foreskins 

Of  the  Philistines  ;  so  that  we  may  have 

Revenge  upon  our  foes,  which  is  to  us 

More  precious  than  much  wealth  in  gold  can  be. 

Minister. 

I  know  he  will  obey  the  ro>  ;il  wish 
Prompted  thereunto  by  his  own  desire  ; 
For  it  is  known  to  me  that  he  has  long 
Loved  Michal,  and  he  fears  not  the  Philistines. 
I  '11  to  him  str;iightway  ;  and  return  to  tell  you 
That  he  is  gone,  to  take  them  by  surprise. 

\^Exit  Minister. 
Saul. 

May  he  himself  be  now  surprised  !     At  last 

May  the  foul  genius  of  disaster  meet  him, 

That  he  return  no  more  !     I  love  thee,  David, 

But  love  Saul  better.     Come  he  back  alive, 

And  bring  with  him  the  foreskins  in  full  tale, 

Then  shall  I  know  that  God  or  Devil  's  leagued 

With  him  to  fight  against  me.  \Exit. 


pit 

|k 

m 

ll        i 

274  SAUL. 


SCENE    IV. 
The  court-yard  of  the  palace.     Enter  Two  DOMESTTrs. 

First  Domestic. 

Dost  thou  not  know  that  joyful  wedding  glee 
Again  is  at  the  threshold  of  the  court  ? 

Second  Domestic. 

I  do,  and  know  that  it  within  the  palace 
Shall  enter  if  so  happen  ;  but  the  bridegroom 
Elect  rides  such  a  sharp-edged  hazard  towards 
Her,  who  is  bought  with  a  hundred  males'  dishonor, 
That  I  much  doubt  within  myself  if  he 
A  bridegroom  e'er  in  very  deed  shall  be. 

First  Domestic. 

Fear  not  for  David  ;  for  he  hath  around  him 
A  panoply  that  no  one  sees,  but  which 
Makes  him  invulnerable  to  the  foe. 
How  often  have  we  seen  the  King  borne  hither, 
All  pale  and  bleeding  from  the  battle-field. 
Suffering  although  victorious  ;  whilst  David 
From  his  recurring,  bloody  skirmishes 
Returns  uninjured. 

{A  sound  of  milttary  music ^  and  loud  acclamations.') 

List !     The  air's  heart  beats  ; 
His  drum  !     Let's  go :  all  Gibeah's  on  the  streets. 

\Exeiint,  and  enter  Saul. 

Saul. 

He  is  returned,  whom  I  wished  not  return  : 
Alive  too  and  unhurt ;  fresh  as  becomes 


SAUL. 


275 


A  jocund  bridegroom  ;  and  he  with  him  bears 

The  bloody  dowr>',  doubled,  from  our  foes  : 

So  that  the  pit  I  willed  him  to  fall  into, 

And  lose  himself  therein  with  death  and  darkness, 

Hath  proved  an  eminence  on  which  he  stands 

Like  to  a  beacon  lighted  up  afresh. 

Men  his  augmented  beam  will  see  full  soon, 

And  bless  him,  seeing  it ;  I,  like  the  moon, 

Before  the  presence  of  the  rising  sun, 

Shall  wane  and  fade  before  this  deed  last  done. 

He  shall  have  Michal,  though  so  great  the  cost 

To  see  my  child  thus  fiver  to  me  lost ; 

For  sure  I  am  that  there  can  never  be 

From  me  toward  him.  but  covert  enmity.  \Exit, 


!, 


h  I 


i  I 


SAUL 


THIRD     PART. 


Persons  Represented. 

Saul,  King  of  Israel. 

Jonathan,  his  Eldest  Son. 

Abner,  SauPs  Cousin,  and  a  General  in  his  Army. 

David,  originally  a  Shepherd,  now  SauPs  Son-in-law,  a  Gen- 

eral  in  his  Army,  and  eventually  King  of  Israel. 
Jesse,  David's  Father. 
Samuel,  High  Priest  of  Israel, 
Ahimelech,  a  Priest. 
Abiathar,  his  Son, 

DoEG,  an  Edomite,  Chief  of  SauPs  Herdsmen. 
Ahimelech,  the  Hittite. 
Abishai,  David's  Cousin. 
ACHISH,  King  of  Gath. 

MiCHAL,  SauPs  Daughter,  and  Wife  of  David. 
The  Witch  of  Endor. 
Zelektha,  An  Angel. 
Zaph,      \ 
Zepho,     \  Demons. 
Peyona,  ' 

Malzah,   The  Evil  Spirit  front  the  Lord. 
Courtiers,    Messengers,    Ziphites,    Soldiers,    Saul's 

Armor-Bearer,  &c. 


fl   i 


I 


ACT    I. 

SCENE   I. 
Giheah.     The  court-yard  of  the  palace.     Enter  Two  Court- 

lERS. 


First  Courtier. 

Three  suns  hath  Israel  now  to  warm  and  light  her, — 

Saul,  Jonathan,  and  David  ;  and  her  blood, 

^o  liberally  shed,  shall  be  as  rain 

Upon  her  lands,  henceforth  thrice  fruitful  in 

The  doubled  toil  of  husbandry  secure. 

Second  Courtier, 

Auspicious  is  this  marriage  ;  and  the  more  so 

Because  it  promises  that  there  shall  be 

No  difference  of  privilege  in  the  tribes. 

Judah  and  i3enjamin  already  joined. 

Says  that  the  other  scions  of  our  race 

Shall,  in  due  season,  be  ingrafted  on 

The  royal  tree,  that,  with  roots  tempest-stricken. 

Now  gives  us  shelter  'neath  its  stately  arms. 

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SAUL. 


SCENE    II. 


An  apartment  in  the  palace, 

Saul. 

"  Defeat,  defeat,"  the  court  pronounce  in  whispers  ; 
"  Defeat,"  they  low  pronounce  with  eyes  depressed, 
As  if  the  dreaded  truth  above  them  hung. 
And  unto  it  they  raised  not  their  regard, 
Fearing  to  make  assurance.     Glad  I  'd  lose 
A  battle,  so  that  he  might  lose  renown. 
But  let  me  not  receive  this  seeming  angel, 
Lest  it  should  prove  to  be  — 

{A  noise  heard.) 

What  noise  is  that  ? 

MiCHAL  {rushing  in). 

O,  here  he  comes  to  tell  you  how  the  day. 
Which  we  believed  went  lowering  down  on  Israel, 
Set  in  a  flood  of  glory  on  our  arms  ! 

{Enter  David.) 

O  David,  David,  thou  art  welcomer 

From  this  new  victory  (which  comes  threefold 

On  us,  late  sat  in  fog  of  feared  defeat) 

Than  sunbeams  in  a  dull  November  day. 

Speak  to  him,  father. 

Saul, 

Thou  'rt  the  minion,  David, 
Of  the  best  fortune,  whencesoe'er  its  source. 
Yet  had  we  heard  reverse  had  come  at  last : 
But,  slow  to  credit  it,  we  kept  our  mind 
Calm  and  ebalanced  'twixt  the  dim  extremes 


SAUL.  281 

Of  chance  defeat  and  likelier  success ; 

Well  knowing,  if  it  were  indeed  defeat, 

We,  with  swift  strides  approaching  the  Philistines, 

Would  soon  return  it  with  high  interest, 

Paid  down  unto  those  warlike  merchantmen. 

David. 

No  need  of  that :  Jehovah  never  fails 
To  succor  me  ;  for  in  mine  own  strength  never 
Do  I  contend,  but,  mailed  in  faith  and  prayer. 
Meet  those  grim  warriors  from  the  ocean  marge, 
Expecting  ever  thus  to  overcome  them. 

Saul. 

Thou  'rt.  lucky  in  thy  frame.     To-morrow  we 

Will  ask  of  thee  particular  recital 

How  the  fight  swayed,  and  how,  as  usual, 

'T  was  won  ;  sufficient,  now,  to  know  't  was  won, 

And  that  thou  liv'st  thyself  to  bear  the  news, 

And,  all  unhurt,  again  art  Michal's.     Now 

Hie  home  with  her  :  't  is  wrong  to  part  you  thi  s 

So  often  in  your  newly  married  days  ; 

Which  should  be  spent  in  soft  and  amorous  fields,  — 

Sweet  days  that,  spent,  can  nevermore  return. 

Go,  go  ;  this  is  not  meet.     I,  for  a  while, 

Myself  will  keep  Philistia  in  awe, 

And,  for  my  health's  sake,  make  a  few  campaigns. 

Michal,  go  with  him.     See  thou  cherish  him, 

As  doth  become  a  young  and  duteous  wife. 

MiCHAL. 

David,  let 's  go.     At  home  we  '11  talk  together ; 
And  thou  shalt  tell  me  nine  times  over,  love, 
How  went  the  course  of  this  misstatea  field, 
That  has  returned  thee  to  me  still  unscathed. 


28. 


SA  UL. 


Saul. 

Yes,  tell  her  to  the  full :  for  women  are 

Most  gluttonous  in  feeding  on  the  tales 

Their  husbands  tell  them  of  their  proper  honor  j 

But  little  thinking,  in  the  same  sweet  hour,  . 

How  many  a  wife  deplores  her  spouse  disgraced. 

Go  ;  such  is  war  :  —  but  ye  can  moralize 

When  ye  are  old  and  grown  morose  like  me. 

{^Exeunt  David  and  MiCHAL. 

If  I  can  hinder  by  delays,  he  shall 

Not  yield  thank-offering  for  his  victory, 

Nor  for  his  safe  return.     If  I  can  cause 

A  breach  'twixt  him  and  heaven,  't  will  serve  as  well 

As  if  he  were,  like  me,  besieged  by  hell. 

How  now  ? 

(j5'«/'^r  Jonathan.) 

Jonathan. 
David,  I  thought,  was  here. 


Saul. 
What  wouldst  thou  with  him .? 


He  was. 


Jonathan  {aside). 

Question  strange  !  {A  loud.)  Why,  naught 
Or,  if  he  were  here,  I,  perhaps,  might  greet  him. 

Saul. 

Beshrew  thy  greeting  !     Hear  me,  slothful  boy. 
He  has  returned  victorious,  as  wont : 
The  rumor  of  his  overthrow  was  false. 
Hadst  thou  been  true  unto  thyself  and  me, 
Thou  w^ouldst  in  armor  and  wind-fanning  plumes 
Have  dipped  thee  into  this  new  ray  of  sunshine. 


SA  UL. 

And  left  awhile  the  sports  of  concubines, 
To  play  at  least  another  game  with  men. 


-^83 


Jonathan. 
Have  I  refused  1  ■ 

Saul, 

Refused  !  thou  shouldst  forestall  him. 
But  thou  forgettest  that  thou  art  the  heir 
Unto  a  sceptre,  that  must  be  maintained 
By  those  who  wield  it,  or  at  length  must  drop 
P>om  out  their  hands,  to  be  ta'en  up  by  him 
Who  is  esteemed,  both  by  himself  and  others, 
(And  proves  it  by  his  realm-protecting  deeds,) 
More  able  and  more  worthy  to  retain  it. 

Jonathan. 

I  hardly  this  expected. 

Saul. 

Ponder  it. 
Ponder  upon  it,  my  forgetful  son  ; 
Ponder 't  for  thine  afflicted  father's  sake  ; 
Who  must  again  go  forth  unto  the  wars  : 
By  day  and  night,  in  sickness  and  in  health, 
In  heat  and  cold,  in  sunshine  and  in  rain, 
Walk  the  tent-covered  field  ;  and  in  his  age,  • 

When  he  should  sheltered  sit  and  counsel  only, 
Have  both  the  planning  and  the  execution 
(Along  with  Abner)  of  all  enterprises, 
Or  them  resign  to  David,  —  to  his  heir, 
More  fit  than  thou  to  fill  the  regal  chair. 
Did  I  say  "  enterprise  "  ?    Alas,  alas, 
My  sons  possess  it  not,  although  I  once 
Believed  them  ablest  of  the  sons  of  Israel 
To  adorn  and  keep  the  house  which  I  have  built : 


2S4 


SAUL. 


But  it  must  crumble,  peradventure  fall, 

And  bury  in  its  ruins  you  and  Saul ; 

Who  hath  his  sweat  and  blood  for  nothing  spilt, 

For  others  founded  and  for  others  built. 

But  David  goes  no  more  unto  the  war. 

Jonathan, 

I  do  beseech  you,  father,  if  you  love 
Yourself,  my  mother,  and  my  sister  Michal, 
Dismiss  this  dread  of  David  from  your  mind. 

Saul. 

I  would  dismiss  him  to  the  land  of  mind. 
Knowest  thou  where  that  is  ?     I  tell  thee,  boy, 
If  he  live,  thou  diest.     Dost  thou  wish  to  die, 
Who  knowest  how  sweet  a  life  of,  glory  is  ? 
Forgetful  and  degenerate,  art  thou 
Our  son  }  if  thou  indeed  art  Jonathan, 
With  glory  crowned  at  Geba  and  at  Michmash, 
Hearken  to  what  I  say  ;  and  let  it  call  thee 
Back  to  thyself,  like  trumpet  to  the  field. 
Thou,  whilst  he  lives,  shalt  no  more  glory  taste  ; 
For  whilst  he  dazzles  thou  canst  not  be  seen. 
He  is  between  us  and  the  people  :  hence 
As  a  small  matter  held  near  to  the  eye 
Hides  the  whole  world  besides,  so  David  now 
Hides  all  the  merit  of  the  house  of  Saul. 
He  shall  be  straight  removed  ;  I  say  he  shall. 
I  tell  thee  kill  him.  —  I  had  done  't  myself, 
But  — 


But  why  ? 


Jonathan. 


Saul. 

Because  I  will  not  do  it,  yet 
It  shall  be  done  ;  and  very  quickly  too  : 


■ 


SAUL.  285 

So  do  it  thou  and  ease  thy  father's  soul 

Think  not  upon 't,  but  do  it.  —  Art  thou  craven  ? 

'T  were  but  one  less  on  earth,  one  more  in  heaven. 

\Exit 
Jonathan. 

0  hideous  counsel !     Most  ungrateful  sire  !  — 
But  he  is  mad,  —  or  the  foul  spirit  hath 

So  venomed  him  by  its  repeated  stinging, 

That,  when  't  is  absent,  still  it  in  him  works. 

How  black  my  father  must  esteem  my  heart ! 

A  brother  bid  assassinate  a  brother. 

No,  though  the  victim  were  not  my  dear  friend. 

Shall  I  become  a  bravo,  though  my  fee 

Should  be  a  father's  bosom  set  at  rest  ? 

Rest !  how  could  he  then  rest,  with  mind  so  guilty  ? 

Ten  thousand  fiends  would  from  that  hour  torment  him  ; 

And  David's  spirit,  like  a  white-robed  angel. 

Would  make  them  ply  their  task  upon  his  conscience, 

Till,  in  some  moment  of  despair  and  anguish, 

From  these  sky-scaling,  ever  gloomy  towers. 

These  suicide-suggesting  battlements, 

He'd  downward  dash  his  body  to  the  earth, 

And  hurl  his  soul  to  hell's  perdition.     O, 

How  can  the  soul  of  man  become  transformed  ! 

How  turn,  self-changed,  with  black,  ungrateful  thoughts ! 

His  son-in-law,  his  own  "child's  husband,  hers. 

My  sister's  spouse  !  him  whom  she  loves  so  dearly, 

And  at  whose  frequent  absences  she  chafes  ; 

Whom  when  at  home,  nigh  to  unseemliness. 

Binds  with  her  arms  and  clothes  with  her  endearments  ! 

O,  monstrous,  monstrous  !     Murder,  thou  art  fair 

As  the  Albino's  pinky  skin,  compared 

With  the  complexion  of  this  Ethiop  deed  ! 

1  will  disclose  this  fatal  scheme  to  David.  \F.xit. 


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286  SAC/L. 


SCENE    III. 

An  apartment  in  the  palace.     Saul  and  certain  Retainers 

of  the  court. 

Saul. 

If  you  know  one  whom  you  believe  I  love  not, 
If  he  were  near  me  lately,  in  this  palace. 
Though  he  might  be  somewhat  to  me  akin,  — 
If  there  be  such  a  one,  deal  with  him  as 
You  list.     You  know  no  enemy  should  live  ;    . 
And  whom  I  point  out  to  your  understandings 
Should  be  no  longer  left  to  trouble  me. 
If  you  know  such  a  one,  crush  him  as  you 
Would  crush  a  spider  that  you  had  observed 
Slow  creeping  towards  me  as  I  ignorant  slept ; 
A  spider  that,  although  you  were  aware 
It  could  not  harm  me,  notwithstanding  would 
Deserve  the  death  for  rash  and  filthy  vermin. 

A  Retainer. 

Your  Majesty,  each  would  lay  down  his  hfe 
To  purchase  safety  and  repose  for  yours  ; 
And  him  whom  deem  we  baneful  unto  you 
We  would  destroy. 

Saul. 

We  understand  each  other. 
Now  go.  [Exeunt  Retainers. 

■^y>  go>  ys  hypocrites  ;  begone. 
I  could  perceive  they  mocked  me  :  — they  '11  to  David. 
Well,  let  them  go  ;  and  when  they  here  return. 
Should  I  discover  in  them  aught  amiss, 
I  '11  send  their  ghosts  to  show  the  way  to  his.         [Exit. 


• 

• 
SAUL. 

1 
287 

- 

SCENE    IV. 

An 

apartment  in 

the  house  of  David. 
David,  and  Michal. 

Jonathan. 

Enter 

JONATt 

.'AN, 

Dear  sister,  for  a  while  retire  ;  for  I 
Have  with  me  business  to  which  no  ear 

Save  David's  must  be  privy. 

Michal. 

Business 
Should  be  transacted  in  its  proper  place : 
The  mart 's  for  traffic,  and  the  council  chamber 
Or  royal  closet  for  the  state's  great  secrets. 

Jonathan. 
Wise  sister,  leave  us,  for  I  must  not  tarry. 

Michal. 

I  am  most  glad  of  that.     Be  light  your  theme 

As  brief :  I  count  you  here  a  trespasser. 

{Exit  MiCHAi,. 
Jonathan. 

David,  my  brother,  bring  I  heavy  news. 

David. 
What,  Is  the  evil  spirit  on  the  King  ? 


Nay,  worse. 


Jonathan. 

David. 
He  is  not  dead  ?    I  prithee  speak. 


Jonathan. 

No,  but  he  seeks  thy  life  ;  and  now  not  in 
His  blind,  demented  fury,  as  I  fear,  — 


1: 


r  I 


288 


SA  UL. 


But  in  a  cool,  absurd  antipiithy. 

Nay,  look  not  so  incredulous  ;  't  is  true. 

So  hide  thyself  forthwith  until  the  morn  ;  , 

When  I  will  join  my  father,  as  he  takes 

His  early  airing,  and  will  speak  of  thee, 

And  tell  thee  afterwards  what  1  have  learned. 

David. 

0  my  divining  eyes  !  I  saw  he  'd  evil 
Within  him  toward  me  ere  I  left  the  palace. 

Jonathan. 

Leave  here,  too,  quickly  ;  hide  thyself  at  once : 
For  his  resolves  are  like  unto  sharp  arrows 
Already  on  the  bowstring,  and,  whilst  others  aim, 
His  thoughts  in  deeds  are  shot. 

* 

David, 

I  know  his  promptness 

1  know  too,  that,  of  late,  he  loathes  or  fears  me ; 
Me,  who  am  ever  prompt  to  risk  my  life 

That  his  may  not  be  perilled. 

Jonathan. 

Speak  not  thus  :  but 
Go,  since  thou  know'st  his  act  pursues  his  word. 
As  thunder  lightning  ;  —  yea,  far  surer,  for 
Oft  the  report  doth  fail  the  flash,  but  never 
His  execution  does  his  threatening. 
Take  not  thy  leave  of  Michal ;  I  '11  excuse 
Thee  to  her.     Go  conceal  thyself  till  morning  ; 
Whilst  I  return  and  watch  my  sire,  to  save  thee. 

David. 
T  cannot  be  in  danger !  —  no  ;  far  from  it. 


SAUL. 


289 


Jonathan. 

Muse  not :  why  shoiiklst  thou  stay  to  be  destroyed, 
Like  the  poor  field-mouse,  ling'ring  in  its  nest, 
Caught  by  the  coming  ploughshare  ? 

David. 

Has  it  come 

To  this!  —  to  be  compelled  to  fly,  like  him, 

The  ever-banished  felon,  who,  by  night 

And  stealth,  returns  unto  his  native  eaves  ? 

What  have  I  done  to  earn  thy  father's  malice  r 

What  left  undone,  that  I  should  this  endu  j? 

•  Jonathan. 

O,  spare  me  theso  keen  questionings,  dear  fiiejid  ! 
?>ut  Saul  hath  not  spared  thee  ;  —  yet  go  thy  w?y, 
While  I  excuse  thy  going  as  I  may. 

David. 
I  will  begone  ;  yes,  Jonathan,  I  go  ; 

But  in  an  evil  and  a  bitter  mood  : 

Deep,  deep  the  sting  goes  of  ingratitude. 

[Exeunt,  different  ways. 


SCENE   V. 

TTie  grounds  of  the  palace.  Time,  morning.  Enter  Mai,- 
ZAH,  languidly;  and  presently  Saul  and  Jonaihan, 
walking  silently  together. 

Malzah. 

Ah,  weary !     I  am  called  the  laugliing  devil. 
Yet  I  walk  up  and  down  existence  weeping. 
But  what  when  demons  disbelieve  their  eyes, 

»3  ■ 


290 


SAUL. 


ill  '. 


.».^ 


;  ;l 


And  their  false  ears  for  jests  take  my  bewailings  ? 

Even  Peyona  does  not  know  me  truly, 

Nor  ever  will ;  —  I  do  not  know  myself; 

I  have  so  many  moods,  that  I  know  not 

Which  of  them  shows  the  veritable  Malzah. 

But  this  I  know,  my  gladness  always  borders 

Upon  the  doleful  region  of  the  dumps.  — 

Ah,  me  I 

How  like  is  man  unto  the  fallen  angels  ! 

How  many  in  my  mood  now  walk  this  world  ! 

Some  sullen  at  their  fellows,  some  at  fate,  — 

From  which  there  is  no  more  escaping  than 

There  is  from  our  free  wills  ;  and  some  are  sad 

With  envy  at  another's  good,  and  some 

With  unfulfilled  ambition  ;  some  with  hate 

Are  sad,  and  some  with  love  unlucky  ;  some 

With  fear  of  missing  heaven,  some  with  dread 

Of  falling  into  hell ;  and  many  more 

With  curious  worldly  cares  :  —  and  here  come  Saul 

And  Jonathan,  and  both  of  them  dejected. 

We  were  a  mournful  trio,  should  I  join  them : 

Grave  as  three  owls,  as  sober  as  three  storks, 

More  gloomy  than  a  trinity  of  ravens. 

In  spirit,  truly  pitiful  they  show  ; 

Portentous  in  appearance  as  yon  heavens  ; 

Or  as  two  doctors,  weighing  if  their  patient 

Shall  die  or  live.     I  will  approach,  and  listen. 


If  1 1  I 


Saul. 
Wherefore  art  thou  so  silent  ? 


m ' 


Jonathan. 

Heavy  thoughts 
Hang  on  my  spirit,  as  those  murky  clouds 


SAUL. 

Hang  on  the  horizon  ;  and,  as  the  sun's  rays 
Cannot  now  reach  the  vapor-covered  ground, 
Cannot  my  sorrow  reach,  in  words,  your  ears. 


291 


What  meanest  thou  ? 


Saul. 

Jonathan. 

I  have  a  sister  Michal. 


Saul. 
Thou  hast,  and  what  of  that  ? 


Jonathan. 

And  she  a  husband. 
Saul. 


I  know  it. 


Jonathan. 
Whom  you  wish  assassinated. 

Saul. 

Cover  the  conception  with  a  fairer  word  ; 

And  bring  not  unto  me,  in  bloody  grave-clothes, 

The  corse  of  David. 

Jonathan. 

Deed  as  foul  as  that 
Which,  yesterday,  was  unto  me  suggested 
Cannot  be  styldd  fair.     Things  are  the  same. 
However  daintily  the  tongue  approach  them. 
Bitter  is  bitter,  though  the  lips  be  not 
Allowed  to  wry  themselves  thereat.     O  father. 
Let  us  not  do  that  which  we  dare  not  mention, 
And,  for  our  futurf?  days,  beget  a  monster 
Of  which  the  embryo  merely  and  foreshadow 
Already  horrifies  us.     My  dear  father, 


I 


292 


SAUL. 


Towards  David  change  your  mind  ;  and  let  down  drop 
To  hell  the  vile  suggestion,  whence  it  came.     > 

Saul. 
Thou  know'st  not  what  thou  sayest ;  peace,  son,  peace. 

Jonathan. 

There  is  no  peace  when  mutters  the  black  storm. 
You  would  o'erwhelm  our  house  by  this  foul  deed  ; 
Would  so  affront  the  cloud  and  wind  of  heaven, 
That  its  already  lowering  indignation 
Should  burst  and  deluge  you,  your  wife,  and  children. 
And  in  its  whirlwind  overturn  your  throne. 


Thinkest  thou  so  ? 


Saul. 


Jonathan. 

O,  think  on  his  good  deeds 
Towards  you  and  towards  us  all ;  think  how  his  life 
He  perilled  with  the  giant,  —  sole  he  slew  him. 
And  none  thereat  did  more  rejoice  than  you. 
He  hath  not  done  you  any  evil  since, 
But  fought  your  foes,  while  you  in  peace  have  slept; 
And  when  again  he  is  re-rendered  here, 
Back  from  the  violent  field  and  harsh  alarms, 
How  fondly  flows  the  music  of  his  harp, 
To  heal  or  soothe  your  ailment  1    You  've  no  child 
Of  your  own  blood  who  is  more  dutiful ; 
And  if  your  people  love  him,  you  no  less 
They  love ;  but  ever  since  he  wed  my  sister, 
His  glory  goes  to  augment  the  common  stock 
Of  the  young  royal  house  and  dynasty. 
Whereof  yourself  foundation  are  and  root. 
Why  should  you  wish  him  slain  ?    Slay  mc  and  Michal ; 


SAUL. 

I3ut  bring  not  on  yourself  and  on  our  line 
Their  cuVse  who  shed  a  benefactor's  blood. 


293 


Saul. 

Prythee  no  more  of  this  ;  I  have  relented  : 

Though  tenderness  towards  him,  perhaps,  is  harshness 

Towards  thee  and  all  our  house.     His  life  is  safe. 

Jonathan. 

And  safer  is  our  house,  since  this  offence 
Shall  rot  not  its  foundation. 

Saul. 

Go  thy  way ; 
It  was  for  this  thou  joinedst  me.  \Exit  Jonathan. 

We  are  weakest 
When  we  are  caught  contending  with  our  children  ! 
Not  tongue  of  wisest  minister,  nor  yet 
The  music  from  the  brave  Bethlehemite's 
Persuasive  lips,  that  emulate  the  strings 
Of  his  own  harp,  himself  in  agony, 
With  wet  and  upturned  eyes,  upon  his  knees,    ' 
Pleading  for  Hfe,  could  ever  thus  have  turned  me. 
Let  him  bring  David  to  me  ;  I  '11  receive  him.       \Exit, 

Malzah. 

Perchance  thou  wilt  at  length  of  life  bereave  him. 

\ExU. 


fe- 


A  C  T    I  I . 

SCENE   I. 

Gibeah.     The  court-yard  of  the  palace.     Enter  Two  Offi- 
•  CERS  of  the  royal  household. 

First  Officer. 

'T  is  said  that  the  Phihstines, 

Those  restless  dwellers  near  the  salty  main, 

Again  are  pushing  inland.     As  the  rain 

From  their  own  bounding  ocean  sweeps  our  plains. 

So  do  their  light  troops  recommence  to  shower 

Across  our  bordc. 

Second  Officer. 

David  is  departed,- 
To  drive  them  back  as  quickly  as  they  came. 
Davfd  is  to  them  as  a  mountain  which 
The  clouds  must  clear  ere  they  can  feed  old  Jordan. 
They  break  themselves  against  him,  whilst  he  stands 
Unbroken,  and  their  remnant  hurleth  home. 
Like  scattered  vapors,  that,  at  change  of  wind. 
P.eturn  to  fall  in  drops  into  the  sea. 


a    i 


1 


SAUL. 


295 


First  Officer. 

They  are  a  dangerous  race,  and  sleep  in  armor. 
One  hand  for  lucre  is,  and  for  the  sword 
The  other,  — 

(Enter  a  Courier,  crossing  the  court-yard  in  haste.) 

Say,  what  news  ?     Sir,  briefly  tell  us. 

Courier. 
David  again  hath  overthrown  the  foe.  , 

Second  Officer. 
So  soon? 

First  Officer. 

We  dreamed  not  he  had  met  them  yet. 

Courier. 

He  fell  upon  them  ere  they  were  aware. 

And  through  a  river  of  their  own  shed  blood 

Drove  them,  half  drowned  in  slaughter.  —  Stay  me  not : 

This  news  is  for  the  hearing  of  the  King ; 

And  afterwards  the  town  may  with  it  ring. 

[Exit  Courier. 
Second  Officer. 

O  David,  valiant  captain,  wise  and  young ! 

First  Officer. 
The  King  is  swift,  but  David  swifter  still. 

Second  Officer. 

He  rises  suddenly  as  doth  the  whirlwind. 

And  leaves  us  wondering  at  his  prompt  achievement ; 

E'en  as  we  wonder  at  the  smoking  ruin 

The  lighlning  hath  just  made  before  our  eyes. 

Let 's  to  the  city,  and  there  spread  the  news. 

[Exeunt. 


296 


SAUL. 


SCENE    II. 

The  palace.  A  room  commanding  a  vie7v  of  the  streets ;' 
Saul  pacing  to  and  fro,  and  an  Attendant  standing 
near  a  window.     Acclamation  without. 

Saul. 
"What  noise  is  that  we  hear  so  wild  without  ? 

Attendant. 

Your  Majesty,  it  is  a  gathering  crowd, 

Shouting  at  the  approach  of  David,  who 

Again  victorious  comes.     They  throw  their  turbans 

Into  the  air  until  't  is  filled  v/ith  them. 

The  streets  are  filling  with  the  throng,  that  flows 

Thereinto  Uke  swift  sea-waves  into  dikes 

Whose  sluices  are  drawn  up  ;  that  soon  they  '11  be 

No  more  paved  streets,  but  one  huge,  head-paved  sea. 


Saul. 
Now  get  thee  gone ;  I  do  no  longer  need  thee. 

\Exit  Attendant. 

I  swear  again  that  he  shall  die  I    Why  did 
I  spare  him  when  before  I  had  so  sworn  ? 
Why  have  I  sworn  his  life  should  still  be  safe 
To  please  that  fool,  his  fond  dupe,  Jonathan  ? 
I  '11  break  all  wordy  barriers,  all  oaths. 
If  they  shall  stand  between  me  and  my  will. 
Let  Jonathan  beware,  or  he  may  suffer 
By  standing  now  'tween  David  and  my  fury. 

\Exit,  and  enter  MalZah  from  the  opposite  side. 


iii 


"■■  -■'■■"riiMttviitri 


SAUL. 


297 


Malzah. 

Now  surely  he  '11  kill  David,  and  thus  end 
My  slavery ;  for  I  will  enter  him 
On  wings  of  blackest  murder,  and  i'O  fuse 
With  him  in  his  infuriated  mood, 
That  we  will  work  together  as  one  soul. 

[Exitj  and  enter  David  in  armor  in  company  with  the 
Queen. 

Queen. 

O,  thou  art  welcomer  than  the  tidings  were 

That  told  us  of  thy  victory !     Thou  hast  wings 

Surely,  and  hastened  to  our  nest,  as  though 

Thou  knewest  the  King  would  need  thee.      To  him 

straight ; 
For  he  is  tending  towards  his  old  distemper, 
And  in  yon  airy  turret,  like  an  eagle. 


Now  sits  alone  black-brooding. 


[Exeunt, 


Saul. 

(Enterin£^,  having  throrvn  a  javelin  at  David,  who  has  es- 
caped as  before. ) 

Now  may  a  palsy  light  upon  this  arm. 

For  it  has  lost  its  skill !     Scathe  it,  ye  skies. 

Wither,  ye  worthless  sinews,  knot  with  cramps  ! 

He  came  unto  his  doom,  —  pshaw,  pshaw,  I  Ve  marred  it ! 

But  I  will  hound  him  out  where'er  he  be. 

(Enter  an  Officer  and  Soldiers.) 

Go,  seize  the  avenues  to  David's  house, 
And  slay  him  as  he  issues  in  the  morning. 

•    {Exeunt  Officer  and  Soldiers. 
Now  am  I  filled  with  malice  to  the  crown  ; 
Till  I  've  no  room  for  pity,  nor  can  enter 
Thaw-wind  at  crack  or  cranny  of  my  frame, 

I3» 


298 


SAUL. 


To  melt  my  frozen  heart  into  remorse. 
All  kindness'  fire  is  out,  all 's  dark  i'  the  house : 
But  I  will  grope  unerring  to  my  victim  ; 
Toward  whom  I  now  will  be  as  stern  as  are 
The  elements  of  nature,  that  ne'er  swerve 
from  their  fixed  attributes  for  mortal  thing. 
How  shall  I  wait  till  morn  doth  tidings  bring ! 

Malzah  {entering. 

Let  me  hide  myself  forever  as  a  bungler ! 
I  am  ashamed,  and  Saul  too  is  ashamed. 

Saul. 

Why  did  my  arm  so  shake  ?  —  it  was  not  weak, 
But  as  surcharged  with  strange,  unnatural  force. 

Malzah. 

Ha,  ha  !  't  is  well,  't  is  well.     Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  ! 

He  herein  not  suspects  me  ;  I  'm  not  blamed.  • 

Let  me  not  laugh  ;  -  -  indeed,  I  cannot  laugh. 

Ah,  weary  ;  I  shall  never  more  be  cheerful. 

I  cannot  laugh  nor  sing,  and  weep  I  will  not ; 

Yet,  had  I  the  gift  of  rhythm  and  of  rhyme, 

Sighs  should  keep  measure,  and  dropped  tears  beat  time. 

0  for  an  eye  of  water,  —  tongue  of  fire  ! 
Go,  go !  go,  go  !    O,  inexpressive  fiend  1 

1  cannot  howl  divinely,  nor  laugh  uncouthly, 
As  some  do  in  their  agony  ;  I  cannot  whine  ; 
Nor  will  I  rave  as  others  :  I  am  dumb, 
Impatient  waiting  for  the  things  to  come. 


Saul. 

Would  I  could  sleep,  or  die,  till  it  were  done  ! 
I  '11  get  to  bed. 


[Z:.r/V. 


SAUL. 


299 


Malzah. 

Ay,  prithee  do,  poor  King. 
Whither  go  I  ?  shall  I  hang  i'  the  spider's  web, 
And  therein  sleep  ;  or  take  the  feiine  form, 
And  wink  and  doze  upon  the  eaves  i'  the  moonlight  ?    \ 
O  to  lie  down  on  the  marge  of  fabulous  Lethe  ! 
Or  with  Peyona  on  a  bank  in  hell, 
Where  fiery  flowers  bloom  in  unholy  dell !  {Exit, 


SCENE    III. 


An  upper  room  in  Dwm's  house. 

burning. 


Time,  night.      A  lamp 


MiCHAL  {discovered,  seated). 

Cease,  ye  vile  wars,  ye  perillers  of  his  life. 
Cease,  ye  fierce  foes,  or  David  cease  to  quell  you. 
Out  of  my  sky,  ye  war-clouds,  roll  away. 
That  into  night  again  have  turned  my  day. 
Ye  purple-robed  and  rich  inhabitants, 
That  populous  make  the  margent  of  the  sea, 
Peace,  and  restore  my  husband  unto  me. 

{Enter  David.) 

My  prayer  i'  the  instant  answered  ?     It  is  he :  — 

O  David,  do  I  clasp  thee  once  again  ? 

Let  me  look  on  thee  :  't  is  an  apparition :  — 

O,  't  is  the  apparition  that  I  love ! 

Yes,  I  now  hold  thee :  art  thou  here  unscathed  ? 

David. 
The  Lord  in  my  last  peril  did  stand  by  me. 


300 


SAUL. 


MiCHAL. 

0  season  of  disquiet  turned  to  joy  ! 

This  hour  for  days  requites  me.     Sit,  love,  sit. 

They  tell  me  that  I  am  too  fond  of  thee. 

Perhaps  I  am  ;  —  and  yet  not  fond  enough. 

O,  thou  art  dear  unto  me  ;  —  yet  wert  not 

Dear,  wert  thou  purchased  with  tenfold  such  fondness  ! 

But  let  them  talk,  who  know  not  what  they  say ; 

For  what  care  I  for  prudes  who  never  knew 

Illapse  into  the  lunacy  of  love?  — 

O,  but  you  look  most  soberly  to-night ! 

Come,  get  these  soiled  accoutrements  from  off  thee  ; 

Love  will  not  dally  in  such  horrid  gear. 

Let  me  unbind  thy  sandals  :  now  I  vow 

That  were  it  not  for  their  dear  wearer's  sake, 

1  'd  burn  them,  that  have  borne  thee  so  far  from  me. 
Give  me  thy  helmet ;  —  I  could  burn  it  too. 

But  for  the  head 't  has  shielded.     Fie  on  war  : 

It  is  the  foulest  pastime  that  you  men 

Delight  in.  —  Ah,  how  easily  I  take 

Thy  casque  from  where  it  sits  so  seemingly. 

I  do  remember  when  I  had  to  climb 

Ere  I  could  take  my  father's  from  his  brow. 

Stay,  let 's  dispose  these  war-disordered  locks  :  — 

Nay,  do  not  think  my  lips  shall  challenge  yours, 

For  't  were  a  pity  to  disturb  their  silence. 

O,  but  you  '11  talk  when  I  have  done,  I  know. 

You  are  o'erspent  by  this  last  swoop  ;  but  thou 

My  eagle  art  in  thy  nest,  nor  shalt  thou  leave  it 

Till  downiest  embraces  have  repaid  thee 

For  half  the  iron  rigors  of  the  war. 


{Enter  a  female  Servant,  and  stands  by  the  door :  MiCHAL 

goes  to  her.  ' 


SAC/L. 

Servant  {in  an  undertone). 
O  my  dear  Princess  ! 

MiCHAL. 

Well,  what  now  ? 


Servant^ 

The  King 

Your  father  has  beset  the  house  with  soldiers  ; 

So  that  when  out  my  master  goes  at  morn, 

They  may  at  once  arrest  him. 


30X 


MiCHAL. 


Get  thee  to  bed. 


'T  is  the  old  madding : 


Servant. 

Pray  let  me  watch  with  you  : 
They  say  the  King  projects  our  master's  death. 

MiCHAL. 
No ;  get  to  bed.  [Exit  Servant. 

{Aside.)  Now  what  new  demon 's  this  r 

'T  is  the  cold  spirit  of  ingratitude, 

Come  from  the  thawless  region  of  the  north. 

What  can  be  done  in  such  a  strait  ?     I  know 

'T  is  dangerous  to  trifle  with  my  father. 

O,  it  is  foul,  is  foul  of  him,  is  foul !  — 

And  in  this  wild,  desiring  hour  too  ;  now 

Clad  in  the  white  robe  of  my  exultation, 

To  come  and  crape  me  over  with  black  weeds  ; 

Make  me  a  widow  in  reality, 

Which,  all  for  him,  I  've  half  been  since  my  nuptials. 

My  lord  shall  stay ;  my  father  dares  not  touch  him  :  — 

And  yet  I  know  not  what  he  dares  not  do. 


I  § 


702  SAUL. 

The  miserable  lunatic !    {Aloud.)  O  Davi  I, 
David,  I  fear  that  thou,  mine  own  sweet  singer, 
Ivly  bird  just  to  my  bosom,  must  this  night 
Break  from  the  cage  and  compass  of  my  arms  I 

David. 
What  hath  she  told  thee  ?  tell  me  what  hath  happened. 

MiCHAL. 

Nay,  nay,  I  cannot  think  but  that  thou  knowest. 

'T  is  but  a  little  :  save  thyself  to-night, 

Or  else  to-morrow  it  may  be  too  late. 

My  father's  ta'en  a  fancy  to  thy  death, 

And  round  the  house  has  posted  guards  to  take  thee 

As  out  thou  goest  in  the  morning.     Nay,  / 

I  see  thou  knowest :  —  well,  well,  get  thee  gone. 

David. 

0  Michal,  I  do  fear  that  now  no  spirit. 
Except  his  own,  doth  animate  thy  father. 

We  will  not  chide  him  ;  but  thyself  art  witness 
Whether  I  have  ever  breathed  against  him  wrong. 
He  seeks  my  life  for  naught,  —  except,  indeed, 

1  do  offend  him  by  exposing  it 

So  much  for  him  and  his.     Weep  not  till  I 

Am  gone. 

Michal. 

Thou  shalt  not  go ;  I  say  thou  shalt  not :  — 
No,  let  him  come  himself;  I  will  withstand  him. 

David. 
Prevent  me  not 

Michal, 

I  will  prevent  thee.     Stay, 
I  will  contend  with  this  capricious  King. 


SAUL. 


303 


David. 
He  is  thy  father,  and  the  Lord's  anointed. 

MiCHAL. 

He  shall  not  drive  thee  forth.  —  0  just  Jehovah  ! 


Peace,  peace. 


David. 

MiCHAL. 

There  is  no  peace ;  but  tears,  tears,  tears. 

David. 
There  will  be  leisure  for  them  when  I  'm  gone. 
We'll  '    inage  this  alone,  and  quietly, 
So  shai»  thy  parent  have  less  scandal  thrown 
Upon  his  name.     Speak  me  to  Jonathan. 
Tell  him  I  love  him  more  the  more  his  father 
Hates  me :  and  that  I  do  love  thee,  his  sister. 
And  my  own  proud  and  yet  obedient  wife, 
Needs  no  asseveration  now  by  me. 
Who  have  from  thee  received  proofs  sweet  and  many 
Of  loving  duty  ;  add  thou,  then,  another. 
By  lowering  me  from  this  dim  balcony. 
That  in  the  darkness  I  may  'scape  in  safety. 

MiCHAL. 

Darker  grows  Israel,  and  darker.     David, 
Thy  words  to  me  have  lifted  up  a  veil. 
And  I  behold  my  father's  countenance 
Looking  so  horribly  deformed,  I  fear 
To  gaze  upon  its  grimness.     O  frail  king  !  — 
Unnatural  man !  —  But  he  is  weak  of  mind, 
Has  fallen  to  utter  feebleness  in  judgment, 
Though  yet,  in  passions,  terrible  and  strong. 

David. 
Let 's  pity  and  forgive  him  ;  but 't  is  hard 


,«. — «. 


304 


SA  UL. 


I    X  i  % 


m 


*-< 


For  me  to  leave  thee  to  the  fury  of 

His  disappointed  maUce,  that  to-morrow 

Will  break  against  thee  in  a  storm  of  anger. 

Now  let  us  kiss  and  take  our  sudden  leave. 

There,  there  ;  no  more  endearments  :  fare  thee  well. 

The  worst  seems  passed.     Thy  kiss  thy  love-pledge  be, 

And  mine  the  sign  thy  sire  's  forgiven  by  me. 

Now,  let  me  down,  I  pray  thee. 


MiCHAL. 


Tarry  yet. 


David. 


I  will,  if  thou  desire  it. 


MiCHAL. 
O  no  ;  go. 
Thou  art  not  safe  a  moment  in  this  house  ; 
For  if  my  father  should  bethink  him,  he 
Would  come  at  once  himself  and  seize  upon  thee. 

David. 

Then  help  me  from  such  sore  contingency. 

( T/iey  advance  to  the  balcony. ) 
The  heavens  seem  one  archangel !  the  countless  stars 
Appear  to  me  as  many  cherubs'  eyes 
That  watch,  love,  for  my  safety.     God  is  yonder. 
Although  I  see  him  not,  and  looking  down 
Benignly  ;  and  where'er  I  go,  be  it 
By  night  or  day,  in  Canaan  or  beyond  it, 
He  will  watch  o'er  and  keep  me. 

(MiCHAL  lowers  him  from  the  balcony.) 

MiCHAL. 
O,  now  come  night  indeed,  and  let  hoarse  thunders 
Bellow  and  drown  my  cries.     Ye  lightnings,  shoot ; 
Let,  through  the  black  waste  of  the  frosty  air^ 


SAUL. 


305 


Your  flashes  reach  and  blind  this  wicked  father  I 

No  tears  ;  —  I  will  not  weep  ;  but  I  will  howl, 

Ay,  howl  my  fill,  for  vengeance  and  for  David. 

Covered  with  martial  glory  ;  —  O,  let  hell's  smoke 

Blacken  it,  rather  than  it  gild  my  sire  I  — 

Ere  on  my  lips  had  died  the  gratulations  ; 

While  the  hot  kisses  that  he  meeting  gave  me 

Thereon  yet  live  in  feeling  ;  —  can  it  be  ? 

I  have  been  dreaming  all  this  half-hour,  surely, 

And  am  not  yet  awake  ;  David  !  ho,  David  !  — 

O,  let  me  now  be  stifled,  or  I  shall 

Awake  the  slumbering  echoes  of  the  night, 

Till  David's  name  shall  ring  midst  Gibeah, 

And  he  return  to  ask  me  why  is  this. 

So  little  time !  so  much  to  have  been  done  I 

But  now  he  went  to  meet  the  enemy  ; 

But  now  he  did  pursue  the  flying  foe  : 

Now  he  's  pursued  himself,     O  these  but  nows  ! 

He  's  homeless  now  ;  his  home  hath  cast  him  out. 

Ingratitude  !  thou  worst  of  demons,  thou 

Favor-forgetting  fiend,  cold  wolf  1  —  nay,  nay. 

The  wolves  methinks  thus  drive  not  forth  their  cubs. 

O,  I  could  rond  my  insane  father's  form, 

And  let  him  see  I  too  can  play  the  fury. 

Is  he  the  King  ?     Then  am  I  not  his  daughter  ? 

Is  not  my  husband  I  ?    O  terrible 

Despatch  !  —  No  more,  no  more  of  that ;  I  feel 

I  too  have  rising  in  me  a  x'"oul  spirit. 

Silence,  poor  Michal !  know  thy  proud  reunion, 

Thy  sunrise  of  new  nuptials,  is  bleak  night. 

Thy  marriage  black  divorce.     Saul  —  father  —  but 

I  will  not  curse  thee  ;  —  no,  but  I  will  chide  him. 

And  rate  him,  at  my  pleasure,  with  my  tears. 

Has  he  forgotten  his  partings  with  my  mother? 

T 


3o6 


SAUL. 


And  how  he  kissed  me  and  my  sister  Merab, 
Ere  he  went  forth  to  battle  ?     Has  he  forgot 
All  that  ?  forgot  his  wife  and  children  ?  all  ? 
Has  he  forgot  who  charmed  him  from  the  demon  ? 

{After  weeping  in  silence. ) 
I  will  deceive  this  madman  parent  now  : 
I  shall  be  justified  :  I  will  deceive  him, 
And  any  whom  he  may  hereto  despatch  ; 
For  in  the  stead  of  him  whom  I  had  thought 
That  I  this  night  should  shelter  in  my  arms, 
Yet  now  is  lurking  shelterless  and  cold, 
1 11  place  a  senseless  image  in  the  bed  ; 
And  when  my  father's  messengers  demand  him, 
I  '11  say  that  he  is  sick,  and  so  say  truth ; 
For  he  is  sick,  and  sick  they  '11  see  am  I. 
I  '11  do  it,  and  so  gain  breathing  for  my  husband. 

\ExU. 


■  SCENE   IV. 

A  room  in  the  palace.     Time,  morning, 

Saul. 
*T  is  now  past  daybreak,  and  he  rises  early. 
Hath  he  escaped  them  too  ?  or  does  his  fond 
Wife  Michal  hold  him  thralled,  to  take  her  fill 
Of  his  fair  body  after  her  brief  fasting  ? 
Poor  child,  she  soon  will  have  more  fasting ;  for 
I  will  not  break  my  fast  till  it  be  done. 

(Enter  the  Officer  and  Soldiers.) 
How  now  ?    Where  is  he  ?    Have  you  left  him  dead  ? 

Officer. 
Your  Majesty,  he  's  sick,  so  Michal  says, 
And  keeps  his  bed. 


i—i 


SAUL. 

Saul. 

Back  with  you  instantly ; 
And  bring  him  to  us  on  his  bed,  that  we 
May  do  unto  him  what  you  should  have  done.  - 
You  have  not  seen  him,  —  have  you  ? 


107 


Officer. 
Saul. 


No,  my  liege. 


So  thought  we.     Go  ;  't  is  a  convenient  sickness  : 
But  he  shall  yet  be  sicker.     Away  with  you. 

[Exeunt  Officer  and  Soldiers. 

Away,  white  thoughts !  how  can  I  let  him  live  ? 
See  how  the  sun  comes  up  in  fulgent  red. 
And  shows  what  is  my  course's  proper  hue. 
Now  if  they  bring  him  not,  I  '11  slay  them  also. 

{Enter  a  Servant.) 
Is  the  Queen  astir? 

Servant. 
She  is,  your  Majesty. 

Saul. 
Tell  her  that  I  am  better :  bid  her  keep 
Her  chamber.  [Exit  Servant. 

'T  is  not  meet  that  she  should  witness 
His  death  ;  for  she  would  raise  such  stout  resistance 
That  I  might  kill  her  too  ;  and  then,  —  why  then 
I  should  destroy  myself,  and  all  for  nothing, 
Except  my  own  damnation :  then  I  'd  done 
At  least  one  murder,  —  for  I  will  not  count 
The  killing  of  mine  enemy  a  murder  ; 
But  to  kill  her,  —  O,  't  were  to  kill  ten  friends  I 
Shall  I  wait  here  and  let  him  still  escape  me  ? 


3o8 


SAUL. 


No,  to  the  fiends  go  all  compunction  !  now 
I  go  to  seize  him  in  his  den,  and  send 
His  soul  whereunto  souls  departed  wend. 


\Exit. 


SCENE   V. 

A  corridor  and  staircase  in  David's  house.  Michal,  the 
Officer  and  Soldiers,  near  the  door  of  David's  bed' 
cha?nl)er. 

Michal. 

But  that  you  stand  as  proxies  of  my  father, 

I  with  these  woman's  hands  would  hurl  you  down. 

For  shame,  like  brutal  ruffians  to  attempt 

To  violate  the  chamber  of  the  sick.  — 

Nay,  if  you  will,  you  enter  over  me. 

Officer. 

Lady,  refrain  ;  for,  as  you  justly  said. 
We  represent  the  King  ;  and  do  not  dare 
Return  to  him  unless  we  have  your  husband. 

Michal. 
Take  him,  then,  if  you  find  him  there  within. 

(The  Officer  and  Soldiers  enter  the  bedchamber.) 

First  Soldier  {within). 

Here  is  no  David,  only  an  image,  abed  ! 
And  far  less  fair  than  he  too.     He  is  gone. 

Second  Soldier. 

Now  .there  will  be  the  King's  best  rage  to  do; 

And  help  him  will  his  demon.  , 


*  ■■  -  *-  ■ 


3^9 


SAUL. 

Third  Soldier. 

O  these  women, 
They  are  the  very  devil  for  cunning !     See  you, 
How  she  has  helped  the  lame  dog  o'er  the  stile  ! 
A  bolster  of  goat's  hair,  and  cloth  o'er  all ! 
We  must  not  tell  the  Kmg  that  he  's  escaped  : 
He  'd  javeUn  us. 

{Re-enter  the  OFFICER  and  Soldiers.  ) 

Officer. 

Good  Princess,  tell  us  sooth  ; 
Where  is  your  husband  ?  for  the  King  will  have  him. 

MiCHAL. 

Good  !     Should  I  now  be  good  were  I  to  tell  you  1 
Let  the  King  come  himself  and  question  me  ; 
I  '11  answer  you  no  further. 

(/i  noise  heard  below. ) 

Second  Soldier. 

He  is  here. 

Officer. 

Now  pray,  your  Highness,  do  not  mock  your  father ; 
For  he  is  in  a  very  fatal  humor. 

{^Enier  Saul.) 

Saul. 

How  now,  unduteous  ?  let  me  see  thy  husband. 
They  tell  me  he  is  sick,  and  I  've  a  cure  for  him. 

MiCHAU 

Ah,  little  care  you  for  him,  sick  or  cured ; 

He  who  erenow  has  cured  you  in  your  sickness. 

He  is  not  here. 


t 


V 

■  I. 


r 


I 


i! 


I 


310  SA  UL. 

Saul. 
Minion,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 

MiCHAL. 

My  duty  unto  him  who  claims  it  foremost^ 

Saul. 

That  is  myself ;  that  is  thy  father,  Michal ; 
That  is  thy  sovereign.     Tell  me  where  he  is. 

Michal. 

I  know  not  where  he  is  :  I  know  not  you, 
I  know  no  father,  and  I  know  no  sovereign, 
Who  would  compel  me  not  to  know  my  husband : 
For  to  reveal  him  now  were  to  forget  him. 
But  go,  O  man,  and  let  me  see  no  more 
Those  murderous  looks.     I  know  not  where  he  is, 
For  you  have  driven  him  from  me  ;  and  may  he 
Never  return  to  do  you  further  service. 
Ungrateful  king  !  —  Nay,  I  can  bear  thy  frown  ; 
For  Iu've  beheld  this  moment  on  thy  face 
My  husband's  murder.     Ah,  I  know  your  heart ; 
I  know  what  your  intent  was  ;  —  but  he 's  gone  ; 
So  do  your  worst  on  me,  for  I  am  bold 
As  you  this  hour  are  barbarous. 

Saul. 

Spoiled  child, 

Be  not  too  bold,  nor  trust  the  o'erstrained  tie 

Of  consanguinity.     I  find  thou  art  bad 

As  he :  take  in  thy  sail  in  time,  sweet  craft. 

You  are  two  vessels  pressed  on  by  one  storm  : 

And  though  he  has  slipped  his  cable  and  is  scudding 

Before  the  wind,  dream  thou  not  tempt  the  sea  ; 

For  I,  his  storm,  at  anchor  will  retain  thee. 


il 


SAUL,  311 

And  may  too  blow  upon  thee  to  thy  huit,  — 
Yea,  for  aught  I  know,  sink  thee.     Whither  hath 
He  fled,  girl  ? 

MiCHAL. 

Nowhere.     He  would  scorn  to  flee  ; 
He  left  this  at  his  leisure. 

Saul. 

O  thou  viper  ! 
{Attempts  to  seize  her. ) 

Officer  {rushing  between  them  and  holding  Saul). 

Your  Majesty,  be  calmed.  —  O,  now  between  you 

I,  a  poor  soldier,  stand,  and  in  this  breach, 

Here  in  this  royal  and  unnatural  quarrel, 

Perhaps  may  fall :  —  e'en  let  me  fall  ;  but  still, 

O  Israel,  lead  not  thus  to  the  assault 

On  that  fair  citadel  your  august  self ; 

Nor  us  command  who  now  would  follow  you, 

Against  our  enemies,  on  any  hope, 

Howe'er  forlorn.  * 

Saul. 

She  is  mine  enemy  ! 

Officer. 

O  no,  my  liege ;  but  now  be  soothed.     Remember 

Whilst  you  thus  wrangle  David  is  escaping. 

O,  be  composed.     I  dare  not  hberate  you, 

Although  I  know  this  all  a  mockery ; 

That  in  your  grasp  myself  would  be  a  sparrow 

Within  the  clutching  talons  of  an  eagle. 

Forgive  me,  O  forgive  this  sacrilege, 

In  laying  hands  upon  the  Lord's  Anointed! 

But 't  is  to  hinder  you  from  desecrating 


312 


SAUL. 


That  graceful  wing  of  your  own  hallowed  temple : 
I  but  restrain  you  from  yourself.     See  how 
She  weeps.     O,  there  is  much  excuse  for  her : 
All  creatures  madden  when  they  are  bereaved. 
She  is  your  daughter,  and  this  hardy  spirit 
Of  hers  is  but  a  fragment  from  the  rock 
Of  your  own  steadfast  soul,  that  hath  withstood 
Both  foes  from  desert  and  from  salty  flood. 

Saul. 

Unhand  me  now  ;  for  I  am  calm  once  more. 
These  women  are  the  marplots  of  our  lives, 
For  when  we  will  they  will  not.     Tell  me,  thou ; 
Are  all  wives  e'en  so  froward  ? 

Officer. 

Well  my  liege 
Knoweth,  and  others,  like  my  liege,  well  know, 
Her  mother  is  as  gentle  as  the  dove  ; 
And  that  herself  is  playful  as  the  lamb 
When  sunshine  's  on  her  pasture.     If  she  bleats  now, 
Why,  't  is  her  nature,  and  the  gift  of  women ; 
Whose  tongues,  amidst  the  sweet  strains  of  their  music. 
Will  sometimes  sound  a  flat  or  note  discordant. 

Saul. 
Tell  me,  thou  false  one,  where  has  fled  thy  husband  ? 

MiCHAL. 

He  did  not  tell  me  where  he  meant  to  go. 
I  cannot  tell ;  and  if  I  could  I  would  not : 
So  there  are  double  bars  upon  my  lips. 
And  should  you  kill  me  and  take  out  my  heart, 
That  you  might  look  into  its  closet,  you  '11 
Not  find  him  in  it,  though  he  will  be  there. 


SAUL.  313 

Saul. 
Now,  by  the  furnace  of  mine  anger's  fires, 
To  which  thou  addest  fuel,  speak  not  thus, 
For  fear  I  take  thy  life  instead  of  his  ;  — 
Yea,  having,  impious,  tasted  of  such  blood, 
I  then,  from  very  piety,  pursue  him, 
And,  having  overta'en  him,  take  his  life 
As  an  atonement  for  thy  ill-timed  death. 
Say,  whither  hath  thy  husband  fled  ? 

MiCHAL. 

Would  you 
Then  have  me  drag  my  husband  forth  to  slaughter  ? 

Saul. 
Tell  me,  or  yet  I  '11  yield  thee  to  my  vengeance  ; 
That,  when  he  comes  to  find  thee,  it  shall  be 
With  him  as  even  now  with  me,  he  '11  find 
The  one  he  seeks  for  missing. 

MiCHAL. 

Thus  he  said. 
When  I  would  have  restrained  him  (thus  you  place  me 
Between  two  meeting  perils  of  fire  and  water). 
He  said  unto  me  fiercely,  "  Let  me  go  ; 
For  wherefore  should  I  kill  thee .'' " 

Saul. 

This  is  false ; 

For  thou  wouldst  harness  him  the  untamed  winds. 

And  yoke  them  to  the  chariot  of  the  night. 

For  his  escape,  so  much  thou  dost  affect  him. 

Avaunt !     I  '11  watch  ;  and  if  thou  succor  him, 

I  will  not  say  to  thee  what  I  will  do, 

But  my  frame  shudders  at  the  unuttered  deed. 

Come  on  !  he  shall  be  hunted. 

{Exeunt  Saul,  Officer,  and  Soldier::). 
14 


314 


SAUL. 


MiCHAL. 

O,  hard  to  bear  !  a  husband's  mortal  hazard  ; 
A  father  darkly  threat'ning  me  with  murder, 
For  what  else  could  he  hint  at  ?    O,  too  much 
To  have  to  bear  this  sudden  load  of  anguish! 
Yet  not  enough  to  bear  for  thee,  my  David  ; 
My  David  laden  by  my  ingrate  father. 

0  David,  loved  more  by  me  than 's  my  father : 
O,  altered  father  ;  O,  now  lawless  man  ! 

Return,  thou  altered  father,  thou  now  lawless  man  ;  — 

Yes,  yes,  let  Saul  return,  let  Saul  return. 

And  rage  against  me  like  the  storm  'gainst  Cr  rmel, 

Yea,  let  him  come  and  in  his  fury  seize 

Me  by  the  hair  and  drag  me  to  his  feet,  — 

As  the  grim  storm  might  seize  the  battlements 

Of  his  own  palace,  and  dash  them  in  the  dust,  — 

1  would  not  tell  him  of  one  rood  (did  I  know  it) 

Of  the  way,  David,  that  thou  wentest.  \jExiU 


^ 


ACT    III. 


SCENE   I. 

Gibeah.    A  room  in  the  palace.     Savl  and  a  Courtier. 

Saul. 
Why  Hngerest  thou,  if  business  be  done  ? 
Why  must  I  bid  thee  go  ?    We  've  httle  taste 
Now  left  for  gossip  when  affairs  are  ended. 
What  hast  thou  on  thy  tongue,  that  thus  thou  standest 
With  parted  hps  yet  silent  ? 

Courtier. 

Pardon  me ; 
David  now  dwells  with  Samuel  in  Naioth. 

Saul. 
Ah,  he  crops  out  at  last !     Go  thou,  and  take 
Soldiers  along  with  thee,  and  bring  him  hither. 
If  thou  but  capture  him,  alive  or  dead, 
I  '11  put  live  honors  blooming  on  thy  head. 

[Exii  Courtier. 
I  '11  follow  him  unto  the  utmost  corner 
O'  the  earth,  but  I  will  have  him  in  my  power ; 
And  when  that  is,  he  troubles  me  no  more.    • 
I  know  this  parasite  will  hold  him  hard  ; 
For  what  will  not  men  do  for  a  reward  !  [/txtf. 


.p.. 


316  SAC/L. 


SCENE    II. 

Thf  borders  of  a  f^07.>e  at  Naioth.  Samuel  and  a  company  of 
young  Prophets  chanting.  Enter  the  Courtier  and  Sol- 
diers, with  Malzah  /;/  the  midst  of  them, 

Malzah. 

I  'm  now  become  the  veriest  drudge, 

From  Gibeah  to  Naioth  made  to  trudge  : 

And  all  to  be  a  pitch-pipe  to  these  fellows. 

O,  to  be  leader  unto  such  a  choir  I 

Why  brought  they  not  with  them  the  town-crier? 

This  seems  a  very  mockery  of  my  woes.  — 

But  what  needs  must  be  must  be,  so  here  goes. 

Air  by  Malzah,  the  Courtier,  and  Soldiers. 

In  this  retreat  doth  Levi  dwell, 

And  welcomes  him  who  came  distressed  ; 

Amidst  these  sacred  scenes  awhile 

The  fugitive  doth  safely  rest. 

Here  we  would  rest  and  praise  the  Lord, 

At  ordered  hour,  with  sweet  accord  I 

The  Lord,  eternal,  great,  and  feared,  — 

Of  all  those  boys,  none  hath  a  beard. 

Malzah. 
1  've  changed  their  strain,  — 
Perhaps  earned  myself  a  peck  oj  pain. 
But  wherefore  should  I  balk  my  humor  ? 
I  will  no  longer  here  remain. 
Nor  play  for  Heaven  the  moody  mummer ! 
Halloo ! 

Ye  fag-end  and  subservient  crew, 
That  will  to  aught  your  voices  screw ! 


SAUL.  317 

Sec,  Samuel  cycth  you  severe :  — 
He  puts  my  saucy  soul  in  fear. 

Samufx. 

Who  and  whence  are  you,  that,  conspiring,  come 
To  these  sequestered  and  religious  shades, 
Intent  to  mock  our  rites? 

Malzah  {aside). 

I  mock  not  them 
Nor  thee,  prophetic,  hoar,  and  reverend  being, 
Who,  in  the  majesty  of  virtue,  standest. 
Here  in  this  still  recess  and  wooded  vale. 
Serenely  girt  by  thy  young  ministering  band  ; 
Even  as  the  midnight  moon,  when  she,  full  orbed. 
Hangs  in  the  heaven's  blue  hall,  what  time  the  Night, 
Along  with  her  and  some  sclectest  stars. 
Holds  court  unseen  by  the  dull,  slumbering  world  ;  — 
But  I  am  wroth,  and  will  sweep  through  these  men 
Like  lightning,  so  that  they  not  breathe  again. 

[Malzah  vanishes,  and  the  Courtier  and  Soldiers 
drojf)  to  the  ground. 

Malzah  {again  visible). 

I  have  not  power  their  life  to  spill : 

I  hear  them  loudly  breathing  still. 

And,  lo,  Zelehtha  through  the  air 

To  Gibeah  warns  me  to  repair  :  — 

O,  to  be  dragged  against  my  will, 

To  be  her  moping  vassal  there  I  [Exit. 

Samuel. 

There  let  them  lie  :  the  Lord  hath  visited  them. 
They  are  from  Saul,  and  for  his  sake  thus  wrought  on. 
{Exeunt  Samuel  and  the  young  Prophets. 


lilii 


mm 


I 


if 


, 


'  ■??  1 


u 


318  6^^6^Z. 


SCENE   III. 

Gibeah.      A   room   in  the  palace.      Enter    Saul    and   the 

Courtier. 

Saul. 
You  fell  to  prophesying  ?  then  take  others. 

Courtier. 
Your  Majesty,  we  lay  upon  the  ground 
A  long  hour  senseless. 

■  Saul. 

Take  ten  chosen  men, 
Or  twenty  if  thou  wilt,  that  fear  no  mortal 
(For  there  are  such )  ;  choose  such  as  do  respect 
Nor  God  nor  prophets  ;  twenty  take  of  such, 
And  haste  thee  bring  here  David.  \Exit  Courtier. 

I  will  send  — 
If  these  should  fall  like  to  the  former  ones  — 
Unto  that  treason-hatching  den  of  Naioth, 
Till  all  my  army  lie  entranced  around 
Its  circling  woods,  as  thick  as  soon  the  leaves 
Will  lie  around  them,  spread  by  biting  gales.         \Exit. 

Malzah  {entering). 
Again  to  Naioth  I  crawl, 
To  teach  a  score  of  knives  to  drawl  I 
But  whether  holy  p:;ulm  it  be. 
Or  a  chant  of  irony. 
Hangs  on  chance  or  change  of  wind, 


Or  humor  of  Jehovah'u  mind. 

I  hear  the  crew  ! 

I  must  pursue  ;  — 

Ah,  something  tragic  yet  I  '11  do. 


\Exit, 


SAUL. 


3^9 


SCENE    IV. 

Tlie  same.     Time,  the  follcnving  day. 

Courtier. 


Enter  Saul  aiid  t/ie 


Saul. 
Sayest  thou  these  latter  also  prophesied, 
And  sunk  even  as  the  others  to  the  ground, 
After  brief  rhapsody  ? 

Courtier. 
I  do,  O  King. 
Though  of  them  and  affected  like  unto  them, 
I  saw  them  with  these  eyes,  and  with  these  ears 
Heard  their  hard  breathings  and  their  broken  mutter- 

ings. 
Except  those  heavy  and  unensy  signs, 
A  f^.ay  and  night  we  lay  there  as  if  dead  ; 
Cold  midst  the  fervor  of  the  noontide  sun,  . 

And  'neath  the  pinching  of  the  freezing  moon 
No  colder,  but  a  frost  like  that  of  death 
Suffering  while  yet  we  lived. 

Saul. 

Did  you  not  long 
To  die,  and  be  at  rest  ?  —  I  at  you  yet  live  : 
Go  back  and  lead  on  fi  'ty.     Pick  thy  men 
Of  various  spirit ;  m  thai'iaught  there  be       • 
Of  sympathy  between  ihjir  fears  or  wills, 
Whereby  they  feel  as  fine  though  they  be  many. 
Now  hasten  with  thy  mongrel  band  away, 
And  better  luck  than  vith  the  former  stay. 

{Exit  Con f; TIER. 
ThL  is  the  very  workmanship  of  fear. 


320 


SAUL. 


They  carry  thither  a  bugbear  in  their  souls, 

And  fall,  at  length,  before  it.     Yet  how  know  I 

But  that  some  evil  spirit  may  be  busy 

"With  them  as  still  with  mc  ?     I  '11  strive  to  sleep  :  — 

Strive,  did  I  say  ?     There  was  a  time  when  Sleep 

Was  wont  to  approach  me  with  her  soundless  feet, 

And  take  me  by  surprise.     I  called  her  not, 

And  yet  she  'd  come  ;  but  now  I  even  woo  her, 

And  court  her  by  the  cunning  use  of  drugs, 

But  still  she  will  not  turn  to  me  her  steps  ; 

Not  even  to  draw  nigh,  and,  looking  down, 

Drop  on  these  temples  one  oblivious  tear. 

I  that  am  called  a  king,  whose  word  is  law,  — 

Awake  I  lie  and  toss,  while  the  poor  slave, 

Whom  I  have  taken  prisoner  in  my  wars. 

Sleeps   soundly  ;    and  he   who   hath   sold  himself  to 

service, 
Although  his  cabin  rock  beneath  the  gale. 
Hears  not  the  uproar  of  the  night,  but,  smiling, 
Dreams  of  the  year  of  jubilee,     I  would  that  I 
Could  sleep  at  night ;  for  then  I  should  not  hear 
Ahinoam,  poor  grieved  one,  sighing  near.  \ExiU 


SCENE   V. 
The  same. 

Malzah  {entering  and  crossing  the  room). 

Now,  here  's  the  King  in  a  pretty  rage, 
And  something  rich  I  do  presage  ; 
For  his  fifty  fools  I  felled  like  trees, 
Fools  of  various  degrees. 
Fifty  fools  with  fifty  fears. 


SAUL. 

May  they  He  there  fifty  years, 
Night  and  day  in  groans  and  tears. 


321 


Saul  {entering). 

These  last  too<have  succumbed !    Three  several  bands  ! 
What  can  be  in  the  world,  that  the  tough  sinews 
Of  stubborn  men  should  slacken,  till  their  owners 
Sink  to  the  earth,  and,  grovelling,  lie  thereon. 
Like  trees,  that,  rotten  at  the  core,  have  fallen. 
Even  in  the  prime  and  stiffness  of  their  years, 
To  slander  the  whole  forest  ?    Why  stay  here  ? 
I  '11  face  this  mystic  influence  myself, 
And  dare  it  to  o'erthrow  me. 

Malzah. 

"Well,  I  '11  be  there,  although  thou  shalt  not  know  me. 

\Exeunt  severally. 


I 


SCENE   VI. 

The  border  of  the  grave  at  Naioth.    Samuel  and  the  Sons  of  the 
'ii\   'PfTETS.    Enter  Saul,  follo7ved  by  some  Attendants. 

Saul. 

VI J  'can,  once  more  see  Saul  amongst  the  prophets  ! 

AiTk  I,  like  others,  come  to  be  demented  1 

Come  hither,  Samuel.     Now,  by  my  sword. 

Which  I  throw  from  me,  and  which  thou  mayst  take 

Up,  and  on  me,  on  Saul,  play  Agag  with  it, 

V/hat  wouldst  thou  do  ?     Down  thou  too,  shield.     Ay, 

bellow  ;  — 
I  dash  down  thee.     Off,  helmet,  off!    Ay,  crack 
An^*  roll  av. ay,  and  take  the  King's  head  in  thee. 

X4*  O 


32  2 


SAUL. 


Now  in  the  air  I  stand  uncovered,  doffed 
Before  thee  and  thy  disappointed  Levites  !  — 
What,  am  I  not  yet  naked  ?  yet  more  skins  ? 
Off,  off,  ye  comfortable  robes  !  off,  off  1 
Why  should  I  he  'neath  you  and  have  your  shelter, 
When  all  the  flowers  o'  the  forest  can  lie  bare  ? 
Rust  there,  my  armor,  ye  my  garments,  rot ; 
For  Saul  himself  is,  yet  himself  is  not. 

{Sinks  or  *he  ground  senseless. ) 

Now  take  him  up,  and  wa.v.     Mm  till  he  wake. 
He  suffers  this  for  his  rebellion's  sake. 

\Exeunt  the  Attendants,  carrying  Saul,  and  the 
Prophets  softly  chanting  a  solemn  strain  ;  then 
Malzah  enters  and  crosses  the  scene. 

Malzah. 

'T  was  featly  done  ! 

And  more  adroit  than  I  is  none.  — 

Ha,  ha  I  ha,  ha !  let  them  begone. 


ACT    IV. 


SCENE    I. 


Gibeah.     An  apartment  in  the  house  of  Jonathan. 
dusk.     Enter  Jonathan  and  David. 


Timtf 


David. 

What  have  I  done,  what  fault  have  I  committed, 
Wherein  have  I  offended  'gainst  thy  father, 
That  he  doth  thus  persist  against  my  hfe  ? 

Jonathan. 

No,  not  in  peril  is  thy  life,  dear  friend. 

I  know  my  father  will  do  nothing,  David, 

Or  great  or  small,  without  my  knowledge  ;  hence 

I  know  he  would  reveal  to  me  this  purpose, 

Did  he  conceive  it. 

David. 

O  fair,  filial  faith, 
That  in  old  harmony  with  nature  dwells, 
Slow  to  suspect  where  should  be  fullest  trust ! 
But,  Jonathan,  give  credit  to  my  words  : 
As  I  now  swear  to  thee  that  it  is  true, 
So  hath  thy  father  sworn  to  take  my  life  ; 
But  being  aware  that  I  have  thy  good-will. 


] 


324 


SAUL. 


He  hath  not  told  thcc,  knowing  how 't  would  grieve  thee ; 
Yet,  certainly  as  the  Almighty  liveth, 
And  as  thyself  dost  living  stand  before  me, 
There  is  but  one  poor  step  'twixt  me  and  death. 

Jonathan. 

0  David,  thine  's  a  hard,  unhappy  case, 
Exposed  unto  the  jealousy  of  a  madman. 
Who,  'twixt  the  demon  and  the  changing  moon, 
Veers  like  a  creaking  vane  from  side  to  side. 

Still,  brother,  though  be  thrice  hath  sought  thy  life, 

1  deem  not  that  'i  is  luw  imperilled :  yet 
Tell  me  how  I  can  help  thee,  for  whatever 
Thou  'dst  have  mc  n>  w  '    do  for  thee  I  will. 


David. 

Then  hear  me,  and  perform  for  me  this  favor. 
To-morrow  't  is  new  moon,  and  I  should  eat 
At  table  with  the  King ;  but  let  me  go, 
And  in  the  envirous  conceal  myself, 
Until  the  third  day's  evening.     If  the  King 
Miss  me,  then  to  nim  say,  "  David  most  earnestly 
Sought  leave  of  me  to  hie  to  Beth-lehem, 
Where  now  is  due  an  annual  sacrifice 
For  all  his  family."     If  he  reply, 
"  'T  is  well,"  then  am  I  safe  ;  but  if  he  *s  angry. 
Thou  shalt  be  sure  he  means  to  do  me  evil. 
But,  Jonathan,  act  thou  with  candor  towards  me. 
For  sake  of  that  high  compact  which  we  made 
At  Ephis-dammim  :  still,  dear  kinsman,  still, 
If  in  thy  judgment  I  deserve  to  die, 
Slay  me  thyself ;  betray  me  not  to  Saul. 


SAUL, 


325 


Jonathan. 

And  am  I  then  so  black  ?     Ah,  thought  unkind  ! 

Dost  thou,  then,  think  that  I  could  prove  so  faithless  ? 

No,  far  from  me  be  that.     O  David,  David, 

Was  I  not  first  to  warn  thee  heretofore  "i 

And  if  I  knew  for  certain  that  my  fa' her 

Now  meant  thee  malice,  should  I  hide  it  from  thee? 

David. 

Forgive  me,  Jonathan,  what  I  have  uttered 
In  the  distraction  of  my  spirit's  sorrow :  — 
But  who  shall  tell  me  if  it  be  not  so  ? 
And  what  if  Saul  should  yield  a  rough  response .'' 

Jonathan. 

Listen.    When  I  to-morrow,  or  'tween  then 

And  the  third  day  when  thou  shouldst  be  our  guest, 

Shall  have  my  father  sounded  touching  thee, 

If  I  should  find  he  means  towards  thee  no  ill, 

Yet  tell  thee  not,  may  God  in  kind  requite  me ; 

But  if  I  find  that  still  he  bears  Uiee  malice, 

I  '11  send  thee  safely  hence,  —  and  may  the  Lord 

Be  with  thee  as  He  once  was  with  my  father. 

But  let  us  go  abroad  unto  the  field, 

That  like  ourselves  seems  sad.     The  sky  grows  grayer : 

It  wears  such  face  as  do  our  fortunes  drear ; 

Old  grows  the  day,  and  aged  is  the  year.  \Exeunt. 


326 


SAUL. 


f , 


SCENE   II. 

77/.?  armory  in  the  palace.     Time,  immediately  succeeding  that 
of  the  last  scene.      Enter  Saul  /;/  haste,  seeking  to  escape 
from  Malzah,  who  enters  close  behind  him. 

Malzah. 

Here  's  a  dead  calm  and  blank  now  in  our  being. 
I  will  have  entertainment ;  sing  or  wail  1 
Give  voice  now,  else  I  '11  rack  thee  to  a  pitch, 
And  screw  thy  nerves  and  tendons  to  a  height 
Beyond  all  human  gamut  save  thine  own ; 
Then  fret  and  play  upon  thee  till  thou  sweatest, 
And  screamcst  hatcfuller  than  the  peacock  doth, 
And  uglier  grow'st  before  my  cruel  eyes 
Than  is  the  gray  rat  or  the  pimpled  toad. 
Sing,  or  I  straight  will  enter  thee  perforce. 
And  squeal  myself,  not  solely  through  thy  mouth, 
But  also  through  thy  nostrils,  eyes,  and  ears  ; 
Yea,  rant  and  bellow  out  at  every  pore. 

Saul. 
Now,  desperation,  aid  me  !     Monster,  hence ! 
Or,  for  that  thin  and  incorporeal  form. 
Be  solid  man,  and  so,  grown  vulnerable, 
Forth  challenge  me  to  the  wood  ;  or,  in  this  paved, 
Resounding  hall,  come  on  with  arms  and  armor. 
And  he  who  fails  shall  be  the  other's  slave. 

Malzah  {going). 
Ho,  ho  I  ho,  ho  !  was  ever  such  a  Saul ! 

Saul. 
Stay,  stay,  I  bid  thee;  let  this  commerce  end. 
Tarry,  bad  Apparition  ;  linger.  —  Pshaw  ! 


SAUL. 

It  will  not  be  entreated  ;  but,  departing. 

Even  whilst  I  cry  to  it,  at  the  gate  out  glimmers, 

Like  to  a  star  that  fades  away  at  daylight.  — 

Ah,  it  yet  looms,  —  't  is  gone. 

How  long  shall  this  strange  creature  persecute  m    ! 

Perhaps  I  *m  a  sinner  in  some  other  sort 

Than  yet  I  have  suspected  ;  —  here  again  ! 

{Re-enter  Malzaii.) 

Where  didst  thou  borrow,  fool,  that  roguish  smile  ? 
Out,  grinning  Goblin  !  follow  me  no  further  ! 

Malzah. 
Retreat  not  from  me,  for  I  will  caress  thee. 

Saul. 
Avaunt  1 

•  Malzah. 

I  am  a  solitary  wretch  j  — 
And  didst  thou  not  recall  me? 

Saul. 

Monster,  hence  I 
Begone,  Infernal  Shadow,  to  Gehenna, 
Or  take  thy  winging  way  beyond  the  desert. 
Or  sink  into  the  centre  of  the  earth, 
If  thou  have  any  right  to  inhabit  longer 
A  world  that 's  walked  by  man. 


327 


Malzah. 
Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  ! 


{Exeunt  severally. 


328 


SA  C/L. 


^u 


SCENE   III. 

TAf  apartmeyit  in  the  house  of  Jonathan.      Time^  immedi* 
ately  succeeding  that  of  the  last  scene. 

Jonathan. 

Come  in,  for  the  chill  zephyrs  fan  me  sadder. 
Come  in  ;  and  do  not  doubt  my  faithfulness, 
Although  I  be  thine  enemy's  son.     Be  cheered, 
For  thou  in  turn  must  now  cheer  me.     David, 
I  could  now  prophesy,  but  let  me  not 
Anticipate  a  melancholy  doom.  — 
Answer  me  not,  but  now  let  me  bemoan  me  ; 
Grant  me  the  privilege  of  sorrow  ;  I 
Feel  that  the  fortune  of  our  house  is  cast, 
And  that  I  never  can  be  king  in  Israel. 
And  as  I  know  not  whether  I  again 
Shall  view  thee,  but  in  this  dim  instant  see 
Distinct  the  vision  of  thy  future  greatness, 
Not  during  my  day  only  shalt  thou  show 
Forbearance,  and  my  life  consider  sacred, 
But  thy  regard  shall  cease  not  towards  my  kin 
When  I  lie  rotting  in  the  sepulchre. 
And  when  in  Israel  thou  hast  no  foe 
Unconquered,  uncut  off.     Swear  that  unto  me. 

David. 
I  swear  it,  Jonathan.     But  why  ? 

Jonathan. 

O,  ask  not. 
Dread  hath  this  moment  hold  upon  me,  David, 
And  horror  rounds  me  like  a  dismal  night. 


SA  UL. 

Till  I  am  even  timorous  as  a  child. 

Yea,  for  my  children  am  I  timorous  ; 

'T  is  for  my  offsprinj^  that  I  now  feel  dread  : 

For  thou  at  Icnj^th,  like  all,  must  be  no  more ; 

And  then  thy  children  will  be  found  with  mine, 

Saul's  hate  remembered  but  my  love  forgotten. 

Hence  blame  me  not  for  sore  anxiety  ; 

But  swear,  in  the  strange  name  of  the  unborn, 

Hereditary  friendship  ;  swear  again  : 

Not  for  mine  own  sake,  but  for  my  dear  children's, 

I  'd  bind  thee  to  me  doubly  in  oaths'  bonds. 

David. 

Ah,  why  exact  now  oaths  like  these  from  me, 

As  if  I  were  a  formidable  thing  ? 

I  who,  erelong,  in  likelihood  shall  be 

An  exile  ;  and  this  very  moment  stand, 

Beneath  thy  friendly  roof,  in  jeopardy. 

Knowing  not  but  fatal  hands  shall  shortly  grasp  me. 

Jonathan. 
Swear  to  me  notwithstanding. 

David. 

Yea,  I  do  ; 
And  now  i'  the  name  of  my  posterity, 
Whom  God  requite  if  they  shall  injure  thine. 

Jonathan. 

My  sorrow's  tumult  now  is  half  allayed, 

And  its  red  tide  beneath  this  moon  goes  down  ; 

For  thou  art  like  the  moon,  and  thy  young  horns 

Are  fining  Tast,  even  in  this  very  hour, 

When  thou  believest  that  my  father  seeks 

To  drain  thy  beam  and  break  thy  shining  crescent, 


329 


330 


SA  UL. 


w\ 


E'er  it  shall  grow  into  the  perfect  orb, 

That  shall  illume  this  night  of  Israel, — 

This  night  of  the  Lord's  frown  upon  our  house. 

From  thee  shall  come  our  country's  proper  dawning  ; 

For  Saul  has  only  been  a  meteor 

That  crossed  the  welkin  ere  the  break  of  day, 

And  then  went  out  forever.     Lo  !  I  see 

Into  the  future  now  :  lo,  now  I  see 

Into  the  future  through  no  bank  of  mist, 

But  through  a  clear  and  frost-purged  atmosphere  : 

I  see,  and  could  unto  thee  prophesy. 

Telling  thee  things  of  night  and  blackest  doom  : 

How  in  the  morning  God's  hand  founded  us, 

But  ere  't  was  noon  my  father  set  on  fire 

The  rising  edifice  that,  ere  'tis  finished. 

Topples  to  ruin,  and  shall  soon  be  buried. 

But  wherefore  longer  chant  a  doleful  truth  ? 

To-morrow  is  new  moon,  and  thou  'It  be  missed 

When  'tis  thy  duty  with  the  King  to  dine. 

Three  days  conceal  thyself ;  then  straight  come  down 

And  take  thy  station  by  the  rock  of  Ezel  ; 

And  I  will  come  and  shoot  three  arrows  near  it, — 

As  though  I  shot  them  at  a  mark,  —  and  send 

A  boy  on  purpose  to  recover  theni. 

And  now  remember  what  I  say  to  thee. 

If  I  expressly  say  unto  the  lad, 

"  The  arrows  are  on  this  side  ;  quickly  bring  them," 

Then  come  thou  :  there  is  peace  for  thee,  not  danger. 

But  if  I  speak  unto  him  thus  :  "  Boy,  see, 

The  arrows  are  beyond  thee,"  prompt  depart. 

For  't  is  the  Lord  that  bids  thee.     And  as  touching 

The  other  matter  whereof  I  have  spoken, 

Be  He  between  us  a  continual  witness. 

And  now  farewell  awhile. 


SAUL. 


11^ 


David. 

Farewell  awhile. 

[£".17/ Jonathan. 
Did  e'er  despair  and  rcsipjnation  sit 

liefore  on  one  so  worthy  ?     His  farewell 

How  sad  and  solemn  !    Tears,  flow  for  Jonathan. 

He  seems  as  gifted  with  divinin^i;  sorrow, 

And  to  have  more  fear  than  hope  even  for  the  morrow. 

O,  morrow,  come  ;  elapse,  three  pregnant  days. 

Lord,  come  what  will,  thy  servant  thee  obeys.        \Exit. 


SCENE    IV. 


n 


A  dining-hall  in  the  palace.      Time,  second  day  of  the  moon. 
Saul,    Jonathan,     Abner,     Public    Officers,    and 
Courtiers,  dining, 

Jonathan  (astWi'). 

This  is  the  second  day  o'  the  moon,  and  he 

Hath  no  inquiry  made,  as  yet,  for  David. 

Still  must  I  not  infer  too  much  from  that :  ■* 

Silence  hath  oft  most  meaning  ;  and  deep  malice 

Brawls  not,  no  more  than  does  the  deep,  slow  current, 

That,  imperceptible,  attracts  the  vessel 

Unto  the  gulfing  whirlpool :  yet  I  wish 

That  some  inquiry  he  would  make  of  me 

Concerning  David's  absence,  so  that  I 

Might  better  know  his  thoughts  toward  my  dear  friend. 

Saul  {gruffly). 

Why  comes  not  Jesse's  son  to  eat  with  us, 
Nor  yesterday  nor  yet  again  to-day? 


332 


SA  UL. 


;  ■" ; 


h  '\ 


i  ^ 


i  I 


Wi 


(■  iJ 


Jonathan. 

My  liege,  forgive  me,  but  most  pressingly 
He  sought  my  leave  to  go  to  Beth-lchem, 
Where  there  is  yearly  made  a  sacrifice 
For  all  his  family.     So  earnestly 
He  begged  of  me,  that  I  permitted  him 
To  let  his  seat  be  vacant  this  new  moon. 

Saul. 

And  by  what  right  hast  thou  dared  give  him  furlough  ? 

His  place  is  here,  and  not  at  Beth-lehem, — 

To  eat  with  me,  and  not  to  sacrifice. 

By  hell,  I  '11  sacrifice  him  now !     Speak  not :  — 

I  will  allow  no  answer.     Knave, 

Thou  canst  no  more  deceive  me.     Knave  !  —  nay,  fool  J 

A  hundred  times  a  fool.     Thou  frovvard  fool, 

Thou  son  of  the  perverse,  rebellious  woman. 

Do  I  not  know  thou  hast  chosen  Jesse's  son 

To  thy  disgrace  and  unto  her  dishonor.? 

Thou  fool  begotten  of  a  wicked  woman. 

Have  1  not  told  thee,  heretofore,  that  neither 

Thy  person  nor  thy  power  can  be  in  safety 

So  long  as  Jesse's  son  still  walks  the  earth  ? 

Instantly  send  and  fetch  him  ;  —  send  and  fetch  him, 

P"or  now  I  am  resolved  that  he  shall  die. 

Jonathan. 

Now,  by  the  Great  Eternal  that 's  in  heaven, 

I  bear  these  taunts  no  longer !    Asperse,  Sire,  me. 

But  not  my  mother,  neither  my  dear  friend 

David,  my  brother,  and  thy  too-good  son. 

O  father,  shame!  how  hast  thou  done  him  shame, 

Even  in  his  absence  and  before  these  Peers! 

Go  fetch  him  I    Shall  I  be  commanded,  like  , 


SAUL. 


333 


A  butcher's  boy  to  fetch  a  calf  or  sheep, 
That  his  bloat  master  may  it  stick  and  flay  ? 
Shall  I  hale  David  to  you  tu  be  slaughtered  ? 
What  hath  he  done  ?     Say  wherefore  he  should  die. 

(Saul  casts  a  javelin  at  Jonathan,  ivho  leaves  the  hall  in 
great  anger,  and  convinced  that  his  father  is  determined  on 
David's  death. ) 

An  Officer. 
My  liege,  — 

Abner. 

Cousin,  what  would  you  do  ? 

Saul. 

What  do? 

Kill  both  the  traitor  and  yon  traitorous  son  : 

I  will  pursue  him  to  the  ends  o'  the  earth ! 

( The  company  all  rise  in  confusion  and  leave  the  hall. ) 

Yet  I  repent  me  that  I  threw  that  dart ; 

And  fear  that  I  am  growing  weak  and  wild, 

To  have  in  fury  thus  assailed  my  child. 

Alas,  alas,  that  we  should  be  the  toys 

Of  ruddy  passion  and  of  pale  surprise ! 

The  guests  are  gone,  I  may  as  well  go  too, 

For  staying  here  were  but  to  stay  and  rue. 

Both  that  I  should  have  sue  h  a  vexing  son. 

And  vexed,  unseemly  deed  now  towards  him  done, 

[£'jf//,  and  enter  Malzah  at  the  other  side. 

Malzah. 

I  've  had  no  part  in  this.     I  'm  sorry,  too, 
(Like  thee,  O  King),  that  ever  I  came  to  thee. 
Zounds  !  why,  I  ought  to  have  strong  penance  set  me, 
Or  else  be  branded  with  some  sign  of  shame, 
For  having  volunteered  for  his  undoing.  — 


334 


SAUL. 


There  's  no  essential  honor  nor  good  i'  the  world  ; 

But  ^  pure  selfishness  is  all  in  all.  — 

In  ay,  I  could  curse  my  demonhood,  and  wish 

Myself  to  be  thrice  lost  for  that  behavior.  — 

But  I  believe  I  am  a  very  mean-souled  spirit.        \_Exit. 


SCENE   V. 

Near  the  rock  Ezel.     Enter  Jonathan  and  a  lad. 

Jonathan. 
Run  now,  and  find  the  arrows  I  shall  shoot. 

{As  the  lad  goes  forward.,  Jonathan  shoots  an  arro7o  past 

him. ) 

The  arrow  is  beyond  thee  :  quick,  stay  not. 

(The  lad,  having  found  the  arroru,  returns  with  it  to  Jona- 
than.) 

I  find  I  am  not  in  the  vein  this  morning : 
Return  with  my  artillery  to  the  city. 

( The  lad  departs,  and  David  comes  from  concealment^  and^ 
with  signs  of  great  respect  and  emotion,  approaches  Jona- 
than, who  embraces  him,  and  they  weep  upon  each  other  s 
neck  in  silence,  David  most  passionately.) 

Jonathan. 
How  long  shall  these  duil-spelling  tears  postpone 
The  syllables  I  must  at  length  pronounce  ? 
David,  my  father  hates  thee. 

David, 

Without  cause : 
*T  is  that  makes  this  so  bitter.  —  Crack,  heart,  crack  ; 
Spill  all  this  dreadful  agony  at  once. 


)NA- 
u-rs 


SAUL. 

Jonathan. 

O,  cease,  dear  friend,  these  bosom-rifting  sighs. 
These  horrible  convulsions  that  so  shake  thee  ; 
I  cannot  loose,  yet  cannot  bear  to  feel  thee 
Thus  like  a  woman  sob  and  agonize. 

David. 

O  for  a  woman's  shriek,  to  cut  the  cord 

That  binds  my  woe  down  on  my  swelling  heart 

Until  I  suffocate !     Still,  let  me  weep  ; 

O^  I  could  pour  out  all  my  soul  in  tears, 

Till  we  both  stood  in  a  hot  pool  of  grief ! 

Jonathan,  methinks,  methinks  my  heart  will  break. 

Jonathan. 

Check  this  salt  inundation,  and  each  speak. 
As  man  to  man,  his  sorrow. 

David. 

So  I  would. 
But  tears  relieve  me. 

Jonathan. 

Weep,  then,  if  thou  wilt. 
Yet  longer ;  weep,  for  sorrow  hath  its  bounds. 
As  hath  the  ocean,  that,  howe'er  it  rain, 
Rises  no  higher :  sorrow  is  as  water. 
That,  boiling,  grows  no  hotter,  yet  still  seeks 
From  the  tormented  bottom  to  ascend, 
And  lose  itself  in  vapor. 

David. 

Ah,  could  I 
But  lose  in  tears  this  torture !    Jonathan, 
As  water  flees  from  fire,  gush  forth  my  tears. 
Out  of  my  heart  fierce  burning.     I  have  heard 


335 


336 


SA  UL. 


It  said  that  somewhere  there  are  boiling  springs, 
Heated  by  secret  fires  within  the  earth  ; 
So  at  my  eyes  gush  forth  these  scalding  tears, 
Boiled  by  the  bosomed  furnace  of  my  anguish. 
I  have  been  told  of  hollow  mountains  too, 
Belching  out  flames  that  thaw  their  summit  snows ; 
I  am  a  mountain  whose  head  Saul  hath  lifted. 
By  unsought  benefits,  and,  as  with  snow, 
O'erspread  with  flakes  of  unenduring  honors. 
Chide,  if  thou  wilt ;  say  aught  tha<-  may  congeal  me : 
For  I  am  snow,  and  this  event  is  fire  ;  — 
I  thaw  beneath  Saul's  hot,  unnatural  rage. 

Jonathan, 

Against  its  zenith-blaze  and  noonday  fierceness, 

We  must  be  obdurate  as  unsunned  ice  ; 

And  a  cold,  March-like  blast  of  speech,  and  frown 

Worse  than  November's  on  the  brow,  must  cow  him. 

Kindness  but  irritates  him,  and  thy  wrongs 

Too  great  already  are  to  be  forgotten. 

David. 

O,  could  I  find  out  some  sweet  dissolution, 
Some  friendly,  cheating,  false  oblivion. 
Would  cause  me  to  forget  what  he  hath  done ! 
O,  would  the  King  himself  forget  his  errors, 
And  be  unto  me  as  in  days  long  past ; 
Or  that  it  had  not  been  my  lot  to  know  him  ! 

Jonathan. 

It  is  too  late  :  and  I  have  chidden  him, 
More  than  becomes  me  towards  a  madman  father. 
He 's  mad,  he 's  mad,  cast  off  of  Heaven ;  and  now 
Doth,  in  his  hell-inspired  fatuity, 


SAUL. 


337 


Cast  from  him  thee,  his  last,  his  only  angel. 

But  let  us  dry  these  unavailing  tears, 

And,  with  such  truce  to  sorrow  as  we  may. 

Wend  each  from  each  his  sad  and  several  road. 

Now  go  in  peace  ;  remembering  that  the  Lord 

Is  always  witness  to  the  covenant 

That  late  we  made  beneath  mine  own  roof-tree, 

Both  for  ourselves  and  our  posterity. 

Farewell. 

David. 

Farewell ;  perhaps  farewell  torever. 

\Exit,  still  weepi)ig. 

Jonathan. 

He  is  o'erwhelmed  by  bodeful  clouds  of  gloom. 
And  now  this  world  seems  unto  me  a  tomb. 
Methinks  'twere  better  I  should  with  him  flee ; 
Nor  court  nor  city  can  again  charm  me.  \Exit. 


SCENE  VI. 

Nob.  Interior  of  a  small  sanctuary  ivith  an  altar  at  one  end. 
A  lamp  burning.  Time,  flight.  Present  Ahimelech,  an 
aged  priest,  and  DOEG,  an  Edomite  and  principal  herdsman 
of  Saul  ;  the  former  officiating  at  the  altar,  the  latter  reclin' 
ing  at  a  distance.     A  knocking  heard. 

Ahimelech. 
Who 's  knocking  there  so  softly  ? 

( Takes  the  lamp  and  opens  the  door. ) 

Who  art  thou  ? 
iJ^KWH  enters.) 


David? 


David. 
The  same.     Speak  low. 


J  1 


338 


SA  UL. 


Ahimelech. 

What  brings  thee  here 
At  this  strange  hour,  my  son,  and  unattended  ? 

David. 

The  King  hath  charged  me  with  a  special  business, 
And  I  have  left  my  followers  o'er  the  hill. 
Say,  what  provision  hast  thou  ?     Give  me  five  loaves, 
Or  aught  else  thou  hast  ready. 

Ahimelech. 

Hallowed  bread 
Is  all  I  have  at  present ;  but  if  thou 
And  all  thy  servants  have,  at  least,  abstained 
From  women,  thou  may  est  have  it. 

David. 

For  three  days 

(The  time  since  first  we  started)  certainly 

Women  have  been  kept  from  us  ;  and  our  vessels 

Are  holy  ;  and  the  bread,  too,  in  a  manner, 

Is  common,  e'en  supposing  that  it  had 

This  day  lain  sanctified  within  the  vessels. 

Ahimelech  {having  fetched  the  bread  from  the  altar). 

Here,  take  this  from  the  altar  :  and  if  I 

In  thus  providing  for  thy  need  do  wrong, 

Let  not  the  error  fall  upon  my  soul ; 

For  'tis  to  assist  thee  in  the  King's  command, 

That  to  the  action  prompts  my  doubtful  hand. 

Doeg  {aside). 

'T  is  well  that  I  am  here  to  have  beheld  this. 
He  is  a  fugitive,  and,  when  I  home 
(Which  I  shall  towards  so  soon  as  liberated) 
Am  come,  I  '11  turn  this  scene  to  my  account : 


SAUL. 

For  tidings  brought  of  him  will  please  the  King  ; 

And  I  abhor  these  Israelitish  priests, 

Though  with  my  offerings  I  am  here  to  feed  them. 

David. 

Hast  thou  nor  sword  nor  any  other  weapon  ? 
For  there  are  vagabonds  about  these  parts  ; 
And  I  have  come  unarmed,  so  suddenly 
Was  I  despatched. 

Ahimelech. 

There  is  Goliath's  sword. 
Wrapped  in  a  cloth  and  placed  behind  the  ephod. 
But 't  were  a  load  for  thee  to  bear  it :  yet 
If  thou  wilt  take  it,  I  will  give  it  thee  :  — 
Indeed  it  unto  thee  belongs  :  —  moreover, 
Here  is  no  other. 

David. 

Father,  give  it  me  : 
There  is  none  like  it,  and  its  dreadful  guise 
Will  daunt  all  danger  till  it  do  withdraw 
And  leave  my  way  unthreatened. 

Ahimelech. 

Here  it  is. 

I  shudder  while  I  bear  it  unto  thee. 

How  black  it  is,  yet  bright !     It  seems 

As  if  it  were  the  scymitar  of  Death  ; 

So  cold,  so  cruel,  and  withal  so  huge, 

That  it  might  freeze  with  fear  all  human  hearts. 

Each  human  hand,  so  well  it  could  create 

A  whirlwind  in  the  wielding. 

David. 

'T  is  a  blade 
Fit  for  the  hand  of  a  destroying  angel. 


339 


f 


340 


SAUL. 


Or  arm  of  demon  going  forth  by  night 
On  deeds  of  devastation.     Give  it  me  : 
With  this  provided,  I  will  hurry  on ; 
And  of  this  visit  see  thou  tell  to  none. 


\Exit  David. 


DOEG  {aside). 

I  will  feign  sleep  ;  and  the  old,  stupid  priest 
Make  think  I  have  not  seen  this. 

Ahimelech. 

Sir,  awake : 
The  night  apace  is  wearing.    I  knew  not 
You  slept. 

DOEG. 

Nor  I ;  —  but  sleep 's  a  treacherous  thing, 
And  steals  upon  us.    I  ?.m  somewhat  chilly.  — 
Beshrew  me,  but  I  could  have  sworn  most  roundly  — 
But  for  your  word  —  I  'd  not  been  sleeping  soundly. 

Ahimelech  {aside). 

Perhaps  *t  is  well  he  has  not  seen  our  motions. 
{To  DoEG.)  Son,  it  was  wrong  to  sleep  at  your  devo- 
tions. 

DOEG. 

Forgive  me.  —  But  how  goes  the  hour  ?    All 's  silent. 

Ahimelech. 

We  've  climbed  almost  unto  the  ridge  of  night. 
'T  is  very  dark,  for  not  a  star  is  out ; 
And,  I  believe,  'tis  raining.     God  help  all 
Who  are  unhoused  now,  for  it  blows  a  squall. 


SAUL. 

Listen  !     Now  come  within  and  take  thy  rest : 
I  have  performed  the  rites  thou  didst  request. 


341 


DOEG. 

Father,  lead  on.    {Aside.)  Now  evil  me  befall, 

If  round  thy  head  I  do  not  raise  a  squall.  {Exeunt. 


SCENE  VII. 


T^e  environs  of  Nob.      Time,  immediately  foUo^ving  that  of  the 
last  scene :  dark  and  stormy. 

David. 

Whither  should  I  proceed  ?     In  my  own  country 

There  is  no  safety  for  me  ;  for  the  foot 

Of  Saul  will  follow  me  where'er  I  go. 

A  foreign  land  must  shelter  me  ;  yet  which  ? 

For  Israel's  neighbors  are  but  neighboring  foes. 

Egypt  and  Edom  hate  us,  Ammon  and  Moab  : 

And  proud  Philistia  hath  too  rudely  felt 

Of  late  our  ire  ;  and  who  as  much  as  I 

To  them  obnoxious  ?    Yet  I  '11  thither  go : 

The  brave  are  generous,  and  the  treachery 

Of  all  besides  around  deters  my  seeking 

To  cross  their  borders.     Lord,  direct  my  path.  — 

I  '11  shelter  seek  of  Achish,  King  of  Gath. 


r 


^±2  SA  UL. 


SCENE  VIII. 

The  royal  court  at  Gath.     AciiisH,  Lords,  Captains,  At- 
tendants, <Sr»f.,  o«(/ David. 

David. 

Behold  me,  King,  a  Hebrew  fugitive, 

Who  conies  to  thee  for  shelter  from  oppression. 

Graciously  let  me,  with  my  services, 

Buy  thy  protection  and  the  right  to  live 

Molestless  'neath  thy  sway. 

ACHISH. 

Thou  'rt  safe  awhile, 
Whoe'er  thou  art,  or  whatsoever  wind 
Of  fault  or  fortune  may  have  blown  thee  hither. 

A  Captain  {to  another^  and  in  an  undertone,  but  over 

heard  by  David). 

Is  not  this  David,  worshipped  by  his  countrymen  ? 
Whose  king,  't  is  said,  he  shall  be  ;  and  of  whom 
The  Hebrew  maidens  chanted  in  these  words : 
"  Saul  hath  his  thousands  slain,  but  David  tens 
Of  thousands,"  over  our  defeat  rejoicing 
In  their  hilarious  dances  .-* 

Second  Captain. 

So  I  deem  it 

David  {aside). 
O,  it  is  hard  to  hide  the  shining  truth  1 
'T  is  as  the  sun's  ray  fighting  through  the  clouds 
Its  way  to  men  :  yet  guile  must  serve  me  now  ; 
For  I  discover  that  they  do  suspect  \ 


I 


SAUL. 


343 


Who  't  is  I  am.     Huw  must  I  cheat  them  ?     I 
Will  straight  feign  madness. 

(David  begins  to  let  his  spittle  fall  upon  his  beard,  and 
scrabbles  on  the  door-post.  The  First  Captain  whispers 
to  Aciiisii.) 

ACHISH. 

'T  is  David,  sayest  thou  ?  't  is  a  madman.     See, 
The  man  i3  mad  :  why  did  they  let  him  enter  .-* 
Think  you  we  've  need  of  madmen  .'*  take  him  hence, 
And  see  that  lie  no  more  intrude  upon  us. 

First  Captain. 

Great  Gath,  forgive  us,  but,  most  certainly, 
No  man  than  he  was  saner  even  now. 
He  overheard  us,  doubtless ;  and  now  merely 
Assumes  this  changed  and  rabid-like  demeanor. 

Second  Captain. 

He  hath  discovered  our  suspicion,  sire  ; 
His  madness  is  as  opportune  as  sudden. 

ACIIISH. 

You  err :  —  see  how  he  paws  the  door-posts.     Tush  ! 
Hath  not,  then,  Achish  learned  as  yet  to  know 
Accomplished  captain  from  a  drivelling  idiot  .'* 
Take  him  away  ;  but  let  him  freely  wander. 
The  man  seems  harmless,  give  unto  him  food  :  — 
'T  were  a  fine  fellow  only  for  this  mood. 

{Exeunt  all  except  the  Two  Captains  and  David. 

First  Captain. 

The  King  will  learn  his  error  when  too  late. 
David  is  here,  a  spy  upon  our  state. 

{Exeunt  the  Captains. 


344 


SAUL. 


David. 

Where  should  I  fly  to  next  ?    I  am  as  one 

'Twixt  fire  and  water,  either  fatal  to  him. 

Yet  some  place  must  I  seek  wherein  to  shelter. 

I  've  heard  there  is  a  cave,  Adullam  called,   . 

Which  lies  not  far  from  here.     I'll  strive  to  find  it  ; 

For  I  in  safety  cannot  house  with  men  : 

And  better  perish  by  the  bestial  brood. 

Than  hand  of  him  who  seeks  to  spill  my  blood. 

'T  is  in  a  barren  wild,  yet  God  can  there  * 

Preserve  me  still,  and  hearken  to  my  prayer.  \Exit. 


SCENE   IX. 

Interior  of  Jesse's  house.    Jesse  and  David's  mother ;  the 

latter  weeping. 


Mother. 


Alas,  alas,  my  son 


Jesse. 

Yes,  weep  thy  fill. 
We  are  no  more  in  safety  than  himself; 
For  the  capricious  tyrant,  any  hour. 
May  clutch  us  up  as  hostages,  or  even. 
In  his  blind  thirst  for  our  best  offspring's  blood, 
Spill  ours :  then  let  us,  with  our  house,  repair 
Unto  the  cavern  of  Adullam ;  there 
Let  us  together  live.    . 

Mother. 

Yea,  let  us  hence, 
And,  if  it  must  be,  there  together  die. 


SAUL. 

Jesse. 

Thou  sayest  well ;  arise :  we  will  at  once, 
With  all  our  household,  to  our  brave  son  hie. 


345 


\Excun(. 


SCENE   X. 
Near  the  cave  of  Adiillam. 

David. 

I  draw  men  unto  me,  as  amber  straws. 

They  that  are  in  distress,  youths  hopelessly 

In  the  entanglements  of  love,  and  they  whom  debt 

Had  gripped,  and  was  fast  holding  to  deliver 

Over  in  bondage  to  the  creditor  ; 

And  some  whom  Saul  has  much  offended  ;  also 

Many  who  've  come  to  me  for  very  love's  sake, 

Preferring  stint  and  danger,  found  with  me, 

To  full,  but  doubtful,  safety  with  the  King. 

Thus  malecontents  of  all  kinds  daily  join  me : 

Four  hundred,  when  I  counted  last,  they  told. 

But  from  amongst  them  two  must  be  removed,  —  • 

Two  bending  stalks  must  be  by  me  transplanted. 

It  is  not  fit  my  parents  should  abide 

With  me,  and  take  the  chances  of  the  chase ; 

Still  stretch  their  failing  limbs  beneath  the  dripping 

O'  the  ever-weeping  cavern  :  no,  though  they 

Complain  not,  I  will  lead  them  to  a  place 

Of  safety.     Ruth,  mine  own  great-grandame,  was 

From  Moab  ;  I  will  go  unto  its  king. 

And  beg  him  to  permit  them  hence  to  fly, 

And  live  with  him  till  Saul  or  they  shall  die.  \Exit. 


ill 


hi 


\ 


346  6"/f67:. 


SCENE   XI. 

Ramah,  not  far  from  Gibeah.  Saul  seated  beneath  the  shade 
of  a  tree,  and  with  a  spear  in  his  hand;  DoEG,  courtiers, 
soldiers,  and  servants  {chiefly  Benjatnites),  disposed  around 
him. 

A  Courtier. 

My  liege,  I  Ve  news  meet  for  the  royal  ear. 
From  Naioth  David  did  escape  to  Gath ; 
But  it  being  there  suspected  who  he  was, 
Thence  fled  he  to  the  cavern  of  Adullam  ; 
And  from  all  quarters  to  hiuiseif  drew  men  ;  — 
Wretches  distressed  in  mind  or  circumstance. 
Lost  bankrupts,  thriftless  ones,  unthriving  souls  ; 
Adventurers  of  all  kinds,  robbers,  cheats. 
And  discontented  spirits  of  the  state  ;  — 
All  these,  and  other  such,  to  him  repaired ; 
But,  at  the  instance  of  the  prophet  Gad, 
He  left  the  cave,  and  lurks  in  Hareth's  wood. 

Saul. 

Ye  Ve  long  known  this.     {Aside.)  Bear  it,  my  sore- 
strained  heart 
Yet  hard  to  bear,  as  is  the  unfaithfulness 
And  disobedience  of  false  wife  and  children, 
Is  this  defection  and  foul  lack  of  duty. 
Of  Judah  and  of  Levi,  I  could  well 
Have  this  expected  ;  but  of  Benjamin, 
How  could  we  ?    {Aloud.)  Ye  unfaithful  Benjamites, 
Think  ye  that  Jesse's  son  will  give  you  all 
Vineyards  and  farms,  and  make  you  every  one 
Captains,  and  dub  you  all  of  high  degree,  ' 


III 


SAUL. 


347 


le 

J, 
id 


)re- 


That  ye  have  every  one  conspired  against  me, 

And  none  inform  me  that  mine  eldest  son 

Is  in  collusion  with  the  son  of  Jesse  ? 

Yet  so  it  is,  and  with  your  knowledge,  still 

Not  one  among  you  is  at  all  concerned,  — 

Not  one  among  you  all  is  sorry  for  me ; 

Nor  tells  me  that  my  son  hath  stimulated 

A  subject  thus  against  me  to  rebel. 

{Aside).    None    answer  me,  none   answer;  —  treason, 

treason 
So  fills  the  air  that  all  have  grown  infected. 

0  treachery,  O  treason,  hollown  iss  ;  — 

1  'm  sick,  I  *m  sick  to  death  with  hollowness  ; 

I  'm  pierced  all  over  by  these  ingrates'  arrows. 

How  many  of  these  men  have  I  made  great ! 

Yet  of  them  all  on  this  not  one  breaks  silence. 

I  am  alone,  I  am  alone  midst  numbers. 

I  'm  a  lone  house  amidst  a  populous  city 

Whose  tenants  are  abroad,  where  thieves  have  entered, 

And  there  is  none  about  to  cry  out  "  Robber  1 " 

I  am  deserted  ;  all  do  now  desert  me  ; 

And,  in  the  middle  of  this  grove  of  men, 

I  'm  bare  and  bairen,  waste  and  bitter  hungry ; 

Yea,  hungry,  and  not  one  will  help  to  feed  me, — 

Will  help  to  feed  wiy  gnawing,  just  revenge. 

{Aloud.)  Are  you  all  silent  yet  ?    Will  none  inform  me 

Of  all  he  knows  of  David's  evil-doings  ? 


DoEG  (aside). 

Now  is  my  moment,  and  I  '11  make  the  best  on  't ! 
{Aloud.)  My  liege,  forgive  me,  for  I  rrow  remember, — 
Though  I  thought  nothing  of  it  at  the  time  ;  — 
Pardon  me.  King,  but,  being  there  myself, 
Detained  before  the  Lord  in  holy  rites, 


!  ! 


348 


SAUL. 


I  saw  the  son  of  Jesse  come  to  Nob, 

To  Ahimelech,  who  sought  for  him  the  Lord, 

And  gave  him  victuals  and  Goliath's  sword. 

Saul. 
Ah,  worse  than  Naioth  this  !     Go  fetch 
Ahimelech,  and  all  related  to  him  ; 
Bring  every  priest  that  you  shall  find  in  Nob. 
Take  men,  and  seize  the  traitors ;  swift,  away. 
If  they  be  guilty,  they  shall  dearly  pay. 

[Exeunt  all  save  the  King. 
At  last  I  'm  getting  on  a  beaten  track 
O'er  which  to  move  in  certainty,  in  place 
Of  floundering  in  quagmires  of  suspicion  ; 
Or,  half  bewildered  'twixt  my  rage  and  fear, 
Deviously  wandering  in  dim  surmise. 
I  'm  aawning  now ;  and  still,  amidst  my  night. 
This  danger,  like  a  lurid  pole-star,  pointed 
Ever  toward  the  priestly  north.  —  Out,  out !     All  night 
My  soul  hath  watched  them  like  a  pacing  sentry  ; 
My  spirit  viewed  them  like  a  couchant  mastiff, 
Winking  with  eyes  directed  on  the  robber, 
And  now  shall  spring  upon  them.  —  Gad,  in  Hareth  ! 
The  priests  are  at  the  bottom  of  it  all ; 
But  heavily  shall  vengeance  on  them  fall.  \Exit. 


SCENE   XII. 

The  sanu.    Enter  Two  Soldiers,  meeting. 

First  Soldier. 
Woe,  woe  !  —  Now  will  a  curse  light  on  him !    Woe  ! 
Ahimelech  and  all  the  priests  of  Nob 
Are,  by  the  orders  of  the  King,  just  slain. 


SAUL.  349 

Second  Soldier. 
Take  back  thy  words,  thou  impious  jester!     Slain  ? 

First  Soldier. 

Slain  ;  —  nay,  believe  it,  for  heaven's  thunder  soon 
Will  peal  it  o'er  the  world. 

Second  Soldier. 

O,  fearful  news  I 
But  who  in  Israel  were  found  so  vile  ?  — 
Who  did  the  deed  ? 

First  Soldier. 

None,  none  of  Israel, — 
All  ours  refused  ;  but  that  damned  Edomite, 
Doeg,  who  for  our  priests  no  reverence  knows, 
Fell  on  them  with  a  double-handed  sword. 
Like  a  strong  thresher  on  a  heap  of  corn, 
And  cut  them  up  in  pieces.     Here  he  comes. 

0  the  blood-streaked  and  impious  human  tiger  ! 
The  sacrilegeous  demon  !  —  Let 's  not  stay. 

His  hands  are  reeking  ;  —  yea,  his  breath  is  bloody. 
See,  with  a  ruddy  lustre  yet  his  eyeballs  glare. 
Surely  from  hell  hath  been  cast  up  that  monster  ! 

\Exeunt^  and  enter  DOEG  with  a  huge  s70ord. 

DOEG. 

Fourscore  and  five  of  the  perpetuators 
Of  hate  against  my  nation  have  I  silenced  : 
But  am  not  yet  contented  ;  for  my  rage 
Rose,  as  a  tempest  might,  at  its  own  sound  ; 
Rose  as  I  wreaked  it,  and  I  thirstier  grew. 
As,  with  the  broad  lips  of  this  heavy  blade, 

1  tasted  of  each  sacerdotal  beaker. 


35° 


SAUL. 


But  I  have  shed  and  shattered  them  all  now  ;  — 
And  't  is  the  King's  work,  who,  with  his  own  hands, 
Might  have  killed  me  had  not  I  straight  obeyed  him. 

{Enter  Saul.  ) 

Saul. 

Thou  art  the  noblest  butcher  in  the  land. 

Now  go  to  Nob  ;  first  having  gathered  men 

Who,  like  thyself,  having  heard  the  royal  hest, 

Incontinently  do  it.     Wash  thyself; 

For  so  transformed  by  thine  ensanguined  favors, 

Thou  'dst  raise  but  few  recruits.     Begone,  raze  Nob 

Unto  the  ground  ;  and  every  living  thing, 

Human  or  bestial,  do  thou  cause  to  perish. 

Let  none  escape  old  memories  to  cherish.  \Extt. 

DOEG. 

I  cherish,  in  my  memory,  Edom.'s  wrongs, 

And  crowd  of  quiet  scorns,  that  I  endure 

For  sake  of  being  chief  herdsman  to  the  King  : 

So,  King,  the  first  of  vintners,  I  will  tread 

This  wine-press  for  thee  ;   first,  though,  these  grim 

stains 
Deterge,  that  come  from  Edom-hater's  veins. 
Having  tasted  of  the  cup,  I  'd  broach  the  tun. 
And  with  my  fellows  drink  till  it  be  done  ; 
Then,  rubicund,  return,  and  thee  before 
Stand  proudly  heady,  and  incrust  with  gore.  \Exit. 


SAUL. 


351 


SCENE  XIII. 


The  ^orest  of  Hareth. 

David. 

Who  hither  comes  with  such  dishevelled  hair 
And  garments  torn  ?    Despair  and  woe  appear 
To  urge  him  toward  me,  e'en  as  if  he  meant 
To  cast  his  sorrows'  weight  down  at  my  feet. 
I  know  him  now  :  Abiathar,  the  son 
Of  good  Ahimelech,  the  priest  who  lately 
Did,  at  his  peril,  give  me  friendly  succor. 
Some  evil  hath  befallen  Ahimelech  ! 

{Enter  Abiathar,  the  son  of  Ahimelech.) 

Welcome,  my  benefactor's  son.     How  fares  ^ 
Thy  father  ? 


Well. 


Abiathar. 

David. 
Thy  kindred  ? 

Abiathar. 

David. 


Well. 


And  Nob? 


Abiathar. 

No  more  ;  for,  with  a  ruthless  butchery, 
Saul  hath  it  visited  with  sujh  horrid  war 
Of  fiends  in  human  shape,  that  I  alone 
Live  to  remember  its  past  days  of  peace. 

David. 
Now  help  me,  God,  to  disbelieve  thy  servant  I 


352 


SAUL. 


Abiathar. 

Believe  my  story  for  its  very  truth's  sake  ; 
Revenge  it  for  mine  own,  my  sire's,  and  God's. 

David. 

O  horrible  !  —  And  did  your  sacred  order 

Avail  you  naught  ?  Whence  did  he  gather  monsters 

That  dared  to  do  this  sacrilegious  deed  ? 

Abiathar. 

Doeg,  that  treacherous  and  heathen  hound,  — 
Doeg,  O  David,  Doeg,  he  whom  thou 
Didst  see  at  thy  brief  calling,  led  them  on. 
They  did  surround  us,  and,  with  uncouth  yells, 
Fell  on  us,  sparing  none. 

David. 

All  murdered  ? 


All. 


Abiathar. 

David. 
The  priests,  too,  slain  ? 

Abiathar. 
They  first. 


David. 

Hush,  heart ;  — 

But  I  must  speak  or  burst.     And  yet,  alas  ! 

Alas,  what  phrase  would  fit  this  hideous  theme  ! 

O  let  me  weep,  weep,  weep  !  heart,  break  to  shivers  ! 

Yet  must  I  speak,  yet  must  I  groan  a  curse 

On  Doeg  and  his  crew.     May  they  all  perish  ! 

May  they  go  down  alive  to  hell  forever ! 

Why  wert  thou  slack  then,  hell,  nor  didst  engulf  them  "i 


s! 


SAUL. 


353 


icm 


And  why  was   Heaven   slack  too  ?  —  Peace,  lips,  O 

peace  ; 
For  ye  too  are  grown  impious.     But  did  Heaven 
Behold  these  monsters  and  not  rain  down  fire, 
As  erst  it  did  on  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  ? 
Shall  there  not  be  another  dark  Dead  Sea 
Where'er  they  shall  be  buried  ?    The  sacred  Nob, — 
God's  holy  priests,  —  thine  unoffending  father. 
Good,  charitable  man,  —  nay,  now  shall  mortals 
Shoot  at  the  stars,  and  seek  to  mar  the  mansion 
Where  angels  do  inhabit.     O,  what  will 
This  raging  king  do  next  ?     He  will  o'erthrow 
All  altars  ;  snatch  therefrom  the  sacrifices.  — 
E'en  that  were  little  atter  this  great  horror. 

Abtathar. 
Bate  not  as  yet  your  words  :  pour  out  the  torrent. 

David. 

O,  't  was  his  demon,  't  was  his  demon  working  ; 
It  was  his  demon  in  the  form  of  Doeg  I  — 
All  perished,  saidst  thou  ? 

Abiathar. 
All. 

David. 

Age  was  no  shield  ? 

Abiathar. 

No  more  than  is  its  ripeness  to  the  corn 
Against  the  sickle. 

David. 

And  the  sword  devoured 
Your  children  ? 


354 


SAUL. 


Abiathar. 

On  them  they  rushed,  .as  on  young  Iambs 
Rush  the  remorseless  wolves  :  but  it  was  Saul 
Who  set  them  on ;  —  Saul,  Saul  destroyed  our  fold. 

David. 

0  horror  1  horror  !  —  No,  it  was  not  Saul ! 
Hell  emptied  her  of  her  most  barbarous  spirits, 
And  poured  them  up  unto  the  earth,  that  they 
Thereon  might  pour  out  Aaron's  sacred  blood.  — 
Inhuman  Edomite  !  the  hell-dog  Do:g ! 
Abiathar,  I  knew  when  I  beheld  him 

That  night,  at  Nob,  he  would  inform  the  King. 

1  have  myself  caused  this  catastfophe. 

Abiathar. 
'T  is  thou  who  must  avenge  it. 

David. 

So  I  will, 

On  Doeg  and  on  Edom,  to  my  fill. 

Come  with  me  further  into  this  dim  wood, 

Where  I  abide  with  many  brave  and  good. 

Never,  although  poor  Nob  now  razdd  be, 

Shall 't  be  erasdd  from  n.y  memory. 

[Exmnty  going  further  into  the  forest. 


MM KM 


MM 


ACT   V. 


SCENE   I. 
Gibeah.     A  room  in  the  palace. 

Saul. 

Now  lively  action  breaks  up  stagnant  death  ; 

For,  lo,  that  outlaw  David  's  in  a  snare, 

Having  entered  wall-girt  Keilah.     I  shall  crush  him 

Now ;  since  I  will  besiege  him  with  a  host 

That  shall  stop  up  each  avenue  of  escape 

So  thickly,  that  if  he  but  sally  forth 

'T  will  only  be  to  render  up  his  life. 

{Enter  an  Officer.) 
How  now  ? 

Officer. 
My  liege, 

David  hath  oassed  from  Keilah. 

Saul. 

'T  is  not  so ! 

How  came  the  news  ?  —  Speak ;  tell  me  quickly. 

Officer. 

By  one  who  Keilah  left  at  David's  heels  ; 
And  says  the  town's  inhabitants  had  meant 
To  have  delivered  him  unto  the  King. 


I 


356  SAUL. 

Saul. 
And  which  way  went  the  traitor,  says  he  ? 

Officer. 

The  wilderness  of  Ziph. 


Toward 


Saul. 

Thither  will  we  steer. 
Go  get  thee  ready.  \Exit  Officer. 

Every  day  shall  see 
An  active  search  made  for  our  enemy, 
Until  we  take  him  ;  and,  he  being  dead. 
Subsides  our  danger  of  him  and  our  dread.  {Exit. 


SCENE   II. 

Border  of  the  wilderness  of  Ziph.     Saul  and  his  army  in 

pursuit  of  David. 

Saul. 

Now,  being  upon  the  margin  of  his  haunt, 
Put  on  ycur  vigilance ;  outspread  yourselves. 
And,  marching,  sweep  the  region  clean  before  you. 
( The  army  having  passed. ) 

Ye  savage  and  dark-wooded  wilds,  disclose 

The  traitor  to  me  :  rocks,  if  ye  do  hide  him 

(As  it  is  said  you  do)  behind  your  doors, 

Reveal  him :  wind,  blow  towards  him,  so  that  I 

May  follow  thee  as  a  vane  ;  or  if  thou  'rt  from  him, 

Whisper  into  mine  ear  where  't  is  he  lurks ; 

Or  you,  ye  penetrating  sunbeams,  play 

For  me  the  spy.  {Exit. 


SAUL, 


357 


SCENE   III. 

755^  skirts  of  a  wood  in  the  loildemess  of  Ziph. 
light.     Enter  JONATHAN. 


Time^  hvl- 


Jonathan. 

How  silent  all  is  here  !     Here  is,  at  least, 
Peace ;  and  methinks  that  peace  is  likest  heaven. 
Now  could  I,  too,  become  a  fugitive. 
Ne'er  to  review  the  turmoil  of  the  city. 
The  court's  intrigue,  and  distuned  passion's  jar 
That  frets  so  this  sweet  world  ;  for  I  am  ill 
Composed  for  earth.     Methinks  the  radiant  ether 
Should  be  my  world  ;  and  all  my  intercourse 
Should  be  with  heroes  that  resemble  David. 
Where  art  thou,  David,  much-abusdd  brother  ? 
Thou  art  not  far  from  me,  methinks  :  — how  far,  then  ? 
If  thou  dost  rest,  nor  like  to  those  shy  beasts 
That  rise  at  nighf  and  seek  therein  their  prey, 
Rise  now,  and,  free  from  day's  encumb'ring  arms, 
Approach  to  me  behind  night's  shady  shield ; 
Come  catch  me  in  thy  grasp,  thy  prisoner. — 
How  gain  with  him  but  one  hour's  intercourse  ? 
I  will  invade  these  boughs,  and,  in  the  glades 
O'  the  forest  standing,  woo  him  with  my  voice. 
He  hath  not  yet  forgot  the  air  I  '11  warble. 

{Enters  the  forest  and  sings. ) 

Come  to  me,  love,  come  to  me,  love. 
Lo,  the  moon  gayly  climl)s  up  heaven  j 
And  stars  appear  to  twinkle  clear, 
And  Hesper,  queen  o'  the  seven. 


I 


;!|l 


-:t!f 

1'  m 


^ 


358  SAC/L. 

For  the  gentle,  nameless  hour  is  come, 
The  hour  'tween  day  and  night ; 
When  feeble  Age  takes  rest  at  home, 
And  abroad  young  Love  delight. 

David  (rus/img  tn). 
Jonathan,  it  is  thy  voice  ! 

Jonathan. 

O  David,  David, 
Thine  should  I  know  out  of  all  Israel's. 
How  hast  thou  fared  since  last  we  said  adieu  ? 

David. 

A  tale  too  long  to  tell,  by  far  too  sad  :  — 
Yet  not  all  sad  :  in  this  uncouth  exile 
The  Lord  is  with  me,  even  as  he  was 
Within  the  polished  city. 

Jonathan. 

Still  thy  trust 
Put  in  him,  —  he  '11  not  fail  thee  ;  and  fear  not 
My  father,  who  hunts  after  thee  in  vain. 
I  know  thou  wilt  be  king  of  Israel  yet, 
And  that  I  shall  be  next  to  thee  in  power ; 
Which  well  my  father  too  in  secret  knows. 
But  let 's  not  speak  of  this,  for  I  am  glad ; 
So  truce  to  thoughts  that  cannot  but  be  sad. 

David. 

So  be  it ;  gladness  breaks  within  myself, 

Like  sudden  morning,  at  your  Highness'  presence. 

Angels  of  old  have  visited  mankind, 

And  now  your  Highness'  visit  unto  me 

Seems  bright  as  one  from  heaven's  hierarchy. 


til 

V.  m 


SAUL,  -^^g 

Jonathan. 

As  the  maid  longs  for  tryst,  I  've  longed  for  this  ! 
But  deeper  tempt  this  thick,  involving  shade, 
Where  tangled  branches  make  yet  deeper  night, 
And  there,  in  brief,  recount  thy  late  adventures  ; 
For  should  this  night  my  jealous  father  miss  me, 
It  might  detain  him  here  :  't  is  understood 
That  this  will  be  the  last  watch  on  this  wood ; 
But  he  is  fierce  at  still  returning  baffled. 

David. 

Alas,  poor  King  I 

Jonathan. 

Yea,  David,  pity  Saul ; 
For  as  thou  risest,  't  is  his  doom  to  fall : 
But  let  Heaven's  will  be  done,  that  orders  all. 

[Exettnt,  and,  after  a  while,  re-enter. 

David. 
Listen ;  I  hear  the  surly  sentinels. 

Jonathan. 

They  all  are  in  my  secret :  fear  them  not. 
Believe,  not  one  of  them  would  willingly 
Disclose  thee  to  the  King.     Farewell ! 


David. 

Farewell  1 

\Exeunt  sa<ily,  and  by  different  ivays. 


1;1 


*■>'■  i 


•M: 


«ll. 

IfK^E^^^^l  HIIiI 

^H|| 

IMfJf ' 

|J-4U 


!  SJJ 


360 


SAUL. 


SCENE   IV. 


A  room  in  the  palace  at  Gibeah. 

Saul. 

We  are  returned  unto  our  den  more  fierce 
Than  rushed  we  out  of  it ;  we  're  coiled  again, 
After  a  snake-Hke  spring.     But  we  11  abide, 
And  watch  with  patience,  as  the  spider  doth 
For  the  entangling  of  the  distant  fly. 
As  it,  'neath  pressing  hunger,  quiet  sits 
Within  its  lonely  aperiure,  until 
It  sees  or  feels  far  off  its  fated  prey, 
We  will  in  Gibeah  bide  to  wait  for  David. 
I  must  remove  that  fascinating  serpen't, 
Before  it  shall  have  grown  a  mighty  dragon, 
To  wear  my  crown.     But  that  he  is  encouraged 
By  my  besotted  and  unnatural  son, 
I  had  him  crushed  erenow.     Beware,  beware, 
Jonathan,  thou  mother-counselled  v/eakling,  lest 
I  trample  thee  to  death  in  killing  him. 
{Enter  an  Office    , 
What  now  ?  —  Are  the  Philistines  coming  ? 


Officer. 


No, 


My  liege  :  they  know  too  well  who  ''"'.  meet  them.     No  ; 
But  up  from  the  wild  wilderness  of  Ziph, 
Which  we  have  left  so  lately,  men  are  come 
With  tidings  for  you. 

Saul. 

Bid  them  straight  come  hither. 
\Exit  Officer. 


|!  pi.'; 


SAUL. 

Now  I  '11  be  slow  and  cautious,  and  look  deep 
Into  each  villain's  eyes  ;  for  how  know  I 
But  that  they  come  to  cheat  me,  and  to  draw, 
Out  of  tb2  sudden  treasure  of  my  joy, 
Unto  themselves  some  gain.     I  do  believe 
That  every  Ziphite  is  the  rebel's  friend. 
But  I  '11  detain  the  knaves,  if  knaves  they  be, 
As  vouchers  for  the  truth  of  their  own  tale. 

(£■«/<•/■  Zr    MUTES.; 

They  look  like  honest  men  ;  —  and  yet  but  little 
Can  be  inferred  from  looks.     The  crafty  soul 
Can  clothe  itself  according  to  its  pleasure. 
And  at  the  oriels  of  the  eyes  stand,  showing 
In  guise  of  saint,  when  'tis,  indeed,  a  devil. 
You  are  from  Ziph  ? 

First  Ziphite. 

We  are,  your  Majesty. 

Saul. 
We  were  ourselves  there  lately.     You  had  saved 
Yourselves  this  journey  by  delivering 
Your  news  at  home. 

First  Ziphite, 
Your  Majesty,  when  you 
Were  with  'is,  re  had  nothing  to  deliver  ; 
Except  it  wcfL  (the  which,  indeed,  we  did) 
To  offer  you  our  services,  to  aid 
In  finding  him  you  sought  f-r-r  ;  but  you  scarcely 
Had  left  us,  when,  emboldened  by  your  absence, 
He  and  his  followers  exposed  themselves, 
Pale,  lean,  and  hungry,  and  entreating  food. 

Saul. 
And  did  you  give  it  to  them  .'' 

i6 


361 


3^2 


SAUL. 


First  Ziphite. 

What  they  would 
They  from  us  took  ;  then  straight  with  it  retired 
Unto  another  forest,  one  that  covers 
The  hill  of  Hachilah,  pierced  with  secret  caves  ; 
And  overtoppling  so  with  loosened  rocks, 
That  they  who  enter  first  into  the  forest, 
Might  send  them  lumbering  on  all  later  comers. 
The  hill  is  south  of  Jeshmon. 

Saul. 

Is  *♦:  so  ? 
Sirs,  you  shall  lead  me  thither  :  and  the  head 
Of  David  shall  be  yours,  if  you  do  find  him  ; 
I]ut  if  you  do  not,  your  heads  shall  be  mine. 
Is  it  well  ? 

Second  Ziphite. 

Alas,  your  Majesty,  the  eagle 
May  fly  away  before  we  reach  his  eyrie. 
But  if  you  find  that  he  was  not  on  Ha  :hilah 
When  we  left  Ziph,  take  not  alone  our  heads, 
But  let  our  innocent  babes  meet  the  desert 
Of  those  who  'd  dare  to  trifle  with  the  king. 

Saul. 

Ye  trifle  now,  believe  me,  with  your  souls. 
If  you  do  sport  with  me  in  any  way ; 
Either  by  foul  collusion  with  my  foe, 
To  draw  on  me  some  loss  by  stratagem. 
Or  for  yourselves  an  undeserved  reward. 
Then  give  to  me  at  once  some  evidence 
That  I  may  know  that  what  you  say  is  true, 
And  that  yourselves  are  not  the  emissaries 
Of  this  ill  wanderer.     Show  me  the  mean  snare, 


:^i 


SAUL.  363 

If  you  have  purposed  one  ;  or,  once  I  've  found  it, 
It  shall  yourselves  clasp,  and  not  you  alone, 
But  ihe  whole  treacherous  wilderness  of  Ziph, 

First  Ziphite. 

So  be  it  done,  and  more,  if  Heaven's  judgments 
May  second  thine.     Let  the  earth  open  and  swallow 
All  souls  up,  true  with  false,  if  we  deceive  thee. 

Saul. 

Amen.     As  Dathan  and  Abiram  perished. 
And  went  down  live  to  hell,  so  may  go  all 
Who  shall  (through  you)  tempt  me  to  scale  the  top 
Of  heaven-touching,  perilous  Hachilah. 

Third  Ziphite. 

iViore  than  thine  impreca':ion  be  upon  us. 
And  upon  all  our  country,  if  we  're  false  1 
But  come  down  quickly,  and  thy  forces  hold 
Ready  to  seize  him,  whilst  our  part  shall  be 
To  lead  him  unawares  into  thy  power. 

Saul. 

God's  blessing  be  upon  you,  Ziphites  ;  for 
Ye  have  compassion  on  me  !     Go  and  spy, 
And  ascertain  his  most  familiar  haunts. 
Learn  who  hath  seen  him  there  :  for  we  are  told 
He  is  most  wary  ;  therefore  be  exact. 
Find  out  beforehand  all  his  lurking-places, 
And  come  to  me  with  safest  certainty  : 
Then  I  '11  go  with  you ;  and,  if  in  the  land 
He  be,  will  capture  him,  though  I  should  have 
To  search  throughout  all  Israel. 


5'i  J'  i? 


^ 


364 


O  King. 


SAUL. 


First  Ziphite. 


We  obey, 


Saul. 
Go  secretly  to  work. 


Second  Ziphite. 

We  will. 
Saul. 
Yet  diligently  too  ;  and  your  reward 
Is  sure.     Return  to  me  with  all  prepared. 

[Exeufit  ZiPHiTES. 
What  were  another  journey  thither  !     Far  better 
A  hundred  toilsome  marches  there  and  back, 
Than  thus  to  live  misgiving.    Were  he  dead, 
There  were  an  end,  save  in  his  recollection :  — 
Ay,  there  is  what  restrains  me,  —  yet  restrains 
Me  not ;  for  I  will  hunt  him  to  the  death, 
Though  it  make  sick  myself:  I  '11  be  assured  ; 
I  will  endure  much  smarting  to  be  cured.  [Exit. 


SCENE  V. 

The  wilderness  of  Ziph.      The  same  ZlPHlTES  as  in  the  preced- 
ing scene. 

Second  Ziphite. 

'T  is  as  I  ventured  to  forewarn  the  King : 
,  The  bird  has  flown  to  the  bare  plain  of  Jeshmon. 

First  Ziphite. 

So  much  the  worse  for  the  bird  then  :  for  the  King 
Is  at  our  heels  with  twice  his  former  numbers; 
And  stealthily  he  marches  without  sound 


SAUL. 

or  clarions  blowing,  nor  has  banners  cast 
Unto  the  wind  ;  but,  wisely  now  discarding 
Slow  mir.tary  pomp,  comes,  like  a  falcon,  swooping 
Back  on  the  quarry  that  it  lately  missed. 

Second  Ziphite. 

But  David  hath  been  warned  of  his  approach, 
And  is  among  the  crags  of  Maon  gotten. 
In  Ziph,  too,  more  are  for  him  than  against  him  ; 
And  some  have  run  before  the  whispering  wind 
To  warn  him  of  his  peril.     Bad  is  brewing  : 
What  we  have  done  others  have  been  undoing. 
{Enter  Saul  and  some  niiliiary.) 


365 


Where  is  he  ? 


Saul. 
First  Ziphite. 


Pardon  us,  your  Majesty, 
He  has  just  fled  from  Hachilah  ;  but  the  desert, 
Which  he  hath  crossed  exposed  him,  even  as 
The  leafless  winter  the  lean  moor-fowl  shows; 
And  nothing  save  the  bare  and  rugged  rocks 
Now  shelter  him,  only  with  treacherous  turn 
To  raise  against  him  the  gaunt  arm  of  1- amine 
Who  ever  dwells  there,  and  will  him  compel 
At  leng^th  iiilo  your  power. 

Saul  {aside). 

The  ostrich  hides 
Its  head,  and  thinks  that  all  is  hid  ;  so  he  : 
But  I  will  track  him  to  the  mountain  crag, 
Swifter  than  Ishmael's  horsemen  o'er  the  sands 
Chase  that  dull  bird.   {Aloud.)  Go  ye  before  me  swiftly. 
Let  no  one  think  of  halting  all  this  day. 
(Aside.)  Methinks  I  have  him  now  a  certain  prey. 

[Exeun/  omnes. 


366 


SAUL. 


SCENE  VI. 


David  and  his  company  on  the  side  of  a  mountain. 

David. 
Hasten,  or  we  shall  be  surrounded  ;  lo ! 
The  King  is  near,  with  doubled  numbers,  striving 
To  hem  us  in,  and  to  possess  the  gorge 
Ere  we  can  pass  it.     Let  your  arms  be  covered, 
Lest  that  they,  telltale,  glitter  in  the  sun  ; 
For  we  will  not  uplift  them  'gainst  our  nation, 
Nor  its  anointed  king.     Let  God  be  judge 
'Twixt  h'm  and  us,  and  be  our  Succorer. 

\Exeunt,  and  enter  Saul,  Ziphites,  ««^  Soldiers. 

Saul. 
Angels  or  demons, 

Which  of  you  is  it  that  delivers  him  ? 

Again  the  snake  has  glided  from  my  grasp. 

What  traitor  doth  forewarn  mine  enemy  ?  . 

He  is  elusive  as  the  wandering  wind. 

Or  shadow  grasped  by  the  mfolding  fist, 

That,  opening,  finds  't  is  empty. 

(^///r^  a  Messenger.) 


Messenger. 


Here? 


Is  the  King 


Saul. 
Here  he  is.    Hast  thou  seen  David  ? 

Messenger. 

No; 
But  the  Philistines  ravaging  the  land. 

Haste  back,  O  King ;  his  Highness  bade  me  tell  you 


SAUL. 


367 


He  doubts  his  power  to  hold  the  foes  in  check, 
So  quickly  swarm  they  on  him. 

Saul  {aside). 

Curses  light 
Now  on  this  twice  foul  fortune  1  {Aloud)  This  is  false. 
Our  son  not  sends  thee  hither. 

Messenger. 

Yea,  my  liege  ; 
And  with  stern  words  of  hastening,  which  he  bade  me 
Repeat  to  you,  and  bid  you  to  yourself 
Apply  them  thrice  repeated. 

Saul  {aside). 

Is  it  so  ? 
Surely  there  is  a  Power  that  stands  between 
My  purpose  and  its  crowning !     {Aloud.)    Get  thee 

gone 
With  utmost  diligence  unto  the  prince, 
And  tell  him  that  I  come.  [Exit  Messenger. 

The  scene  of  sport 
Hath  changed,  brave  soldiers  :  we  must  hasten  back ; 
For  out,  full-mouthed,  are  the  Philistine  pack. 
Hence  are  we  bootless  bound  to  leave  this  place. 
And  start  forthwith  upon  a  nobler  chase.  [Exatnf. 


SCENE  VH. 

Gibeah.     A  hall  in  the  palace. 

Malzah  {entering). 
Heyday,  I  've  oft  heard  say 
That,  when  God  naps,  the  demons  play. 
Why  am  I  here  retained  .''  why  must  I  still 
With  this  untoward,  gloomy  king  abide 


h, 


i  ^3i 


368  SAUL. 

Ever  alone,  nor  know  embrace  seraphic  ? 
I  'II  hither  summon  Peyona.     What,  so  ho  ! 
Prithee  come  up,  my  consort,  from  below  I 

Peyona  {rising). 
Malzah,  what  hath  made  thee  call  me  ? 

Malzah. 
Dost  come  unwillingly? 

Peyona. 

Why,  no. 
Malzah. 

'T  is  well,  or  —  O,  immense  distraction ! — 
But  put  thyself  in  capering  action. 
Come :  I  am  in  a  moving  mood. 
Last  time  we  danced  was  at  the  flood. 

Peyona. 

O,  is  this  falsehood  or  forgetfulness  ?  — 
But  thou  mayest  well  forget,  so  long  it  is 
Since  thou  forgot  to  play  with  me  the  gallant. 

Malzah. 

Why,  madam,  how  is  this  ?     Have  you  forgot  that 
When  I  would  dance,  you  always  thus  would  preach  ? 
And  even  now  you  fall  to  contradiction.  — 
But  dance,  not  talk  ;  for,  just  now,  speech 
Would  give  each  carcass  too  much  friction. 


I  cannot  dance  to-day. 


Peyona. 


Malzah. 

Then  I  will  make  you.     Music,  ho !  I  pray. 
{Music  heard^  and  they  dance  together J\ 


SAUL. 

Peyona. 
I  '11  dance  no  longer :  let  me  from  thee  go. 

Malzah. 
You  have  no  urgent,  pressing  task  below. 
Slut,  why  request,  then,  to  return  so  soon  ? 

Peyona. 
I  must  return,  for  I  am  called. 


369 


Malzah. 


Who  calls  thee  ? 


Peyona. 


I  know  not. 


[Pevona  begins  to  descend. 


Malzah. 
Liar  1    O  soft,  deceptive  eyes,  — 
Out,  coals  of  hell,  or  I  will  tear  you  out. 

[Peyona  disappears. 
Disclose  yourselves,  ye  dark  and  terrible  gulfs, 
That  in  immensity  and  eternal  night 
Have  to  this  hour  in  sullen  silence  yawned, 
And  swallow  her  up  !  —  I  '11  follow  her  to  hell. 

Zelehtha  {entering,. 
Whither  art  thou  bound  .'* 

Malzah. 

To  Acheron. 

Zelehtha. 

Stay  here 

lExit. 

Malzah. 
I  will  stay  no  longer. 
Grieve  Saul  thyself;  kill  David  ;  ay,  kill  me: 
For  to  live  thus  is  worse  than  Tophet's  torment. 

16*  X 


Till  I  dismiss  thee. 


y 
hi: 


i 


t  )■ 


370 


SAUL. 


Saul  {entering). 

Now  from  one  tumult  pass  I  to  another. 

From  David  'scaped,  I  turned  to  the  Philistines  ; 

From  the  Philistines  quelled,  I  turn  to  David, 

Who,  on  the  stony  mountains  of  En-<^edi 

At  present  roams.     Shall  he  elude  me  thrice  ? 

Three  thousand  chosen  men  I  '11  lead  against  him, 

And  end  him  now  with  all  his  band  of  outlaws.     [Exit, 

Malzah. 

I  will  end  thee,  —  I  '11  tear  thee  yet  to  pieces  ; 

Kill  or  be  killed,  or  die  as  other  men  : 

Then  will  my  liberty  be  mine  again. 

I  do  begin  to  find  this  task  beneath  me, 

And  hate  thee  even  as  I  hate  Zelehtha.  {Exit. 


SCENE  VIII. 

A  wild,  hilly  district,  7vith  the  mountains  of  En-gedi  seen  be- 
yond^ and  the  mouth  of  a  cave  in  the  foregivund.  Enter 
Two  Soldiers  o/"  Saul's  advance-guard. 

First  Soldier. 

Wilder  and  barrener  this  region  grows  ; 
Till  naught  but  sheep,  and  they  of  smallest  size, 
Draw  from  it  sustenance.     No  fields  of  corn 
Are  here,  nor  rye  nor  barley ;  neither  roots 
To  fare  the  frugal  shepherds,  who  appear 
Dwelling  within  the  doors  of  blank  starvation  : 
A  rising,  melancholy  moorland,  that 
Ascending  keeps,  until  the  sterile  hills 
Seem  to  be  hanging  in  the  sombre  clouds. 
What  that  hath  life  can  harbor  there  ? 


SAUL. 


371 


Second  Soldier. 

There  lives 
The  wild  goat  only,  and  with  snow  still  cools 
His  hot  and  lecherous  blood.     Nor  bear  nor  fox 
There  dwelleth,  neither  wolf,  —  naught  but  the  goat 
And  the  heaven-searching  eagle  ;  whilst  the  tempest, 
Sullen,  within  the  towering  fastnesses. 
Mustering  its  strength,  sweeps  thence  far  o'er  the  plain. 

First  Soldier. 

How  awful  doth  it  seem  to  pass  a  life. 

Though  but  an  animal's,  amidst  such  horror 

And  constant  solitude  !     I  almost  shudder. 

Though  with  a  host,  at  thought  of  entering 

Such  a  bewildering,  wild  world  of  crags. 

What  were  we  smitten  by  a  waterspout  ? 

Or  in  a  narrow  gully  (such  might  be) 

Caught  by  a  torrent  sweeping  from  the  peaks, 

That  had  ripped  up  the  clouds  ?     Or  what  if  blown 

Down  from  some  scarpy  side  into  the  yawn, 

That  lies  a  thousand  fathoms  down  below, 

To  batten  there  the  vultures  ;  or  perchance 

Rolled  down  into  some  deep-worn  channel  stream, 

To  be  by  its  fierce  billows  onward  swept, 

And  buried  in  the  ocean  ? 

Second  Soldier. 

Cease,  I  pray  thee  : 
Thou  dost  infect  me  with  an  idle  terror. 
What !  do  not  David  and  his  men  live  there  ? 


First  Soldier. 

'T  is  said  they  do,  and  yet  I  know  not  how ; 
For  though  they  may  in  caves  find  shelter,  yet 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


7 


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WEBSTER,  N.Y.  11 '30 

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372 


SAUL. 


m 


They  cannot  eat  the  rock  :  nor  herb  that  feeds 

The  barbed  and  shaggy  denizens  of  those  heights 

Is  sustenance  for  them  :  and  the  shy  lords, 

The  goats,  whose  rule  begins  where  man's  must  end, 

How  shall  the  swiftest  hunter  overtake. 

Or  his  ascending  arrow,  when  they  spring 

Up  the  jagged  precipice,  as  sweeps  ihe  shadow 

Of  the  swift  cloudlet  ? 

Second  Soldier. 

I  am  told  they  span 
As  with  a  bridge,  in  their  arched  leap,  a  chasm  ; 
From  whose  sloped  verge  the  hardiest  shrink  in  horror, 
Riding,  as  if  with  sudden  gift  of  flight. 
Its  overhanging  air.     'T  is  also  said 
That  they  upon  their  horns  can  safely  drop 
From  crag  to  crag, — upon  their  crowns'  strength  prov- 
ing 
Themselves  true  kings. 

First  Soldier. 

Lo,  where  our  own  crowned  king 
Prepares  to  halt ;  and  our  old  general,  Abner, 
Makes  wave  the  signal  for  our  bands  to  rest 
Let  us  along,  nor  bivouac  too  near  them. 

{Exeunt^  and  enter  Saul  and  Abner. 

Saul. 
Ere  we  commence  this  last  and  wildest  stage. 
Let  us  take  needful  rest.     When  once  up  yonder, 
No  rest  is  ours  ;  and  the  now  travelled  foot 
Must  with  its  soreness  cope  the  untrodden  way, 
If  way  to  yonder  rugged  realm  can  be  j 
For  nature  in  such  hideous  confusion 
Was  never  seen  before. 


h 


)r. 


IV- 


g 


;r. 


SAUL.  373 

Abner. 

It  were  a  mercy 
To  take  the  offender  thence ;  for  there  to  dwell 
Is  surely  lingering  death. 

Saul. 

To  shorten  pain 
Is  charity  in  whomsoever  doth  it. 
The  wretch  condemned  to  die  had  best  die  soon. 
And  what  is  there  in  life  that  men  so  love  it ;     • 
What  afterwards,  that  men  should  so  fear  death  ? 
We  have  remorse  even  here,  and  what  can  we 
Have  worse  hereafter?     A  foe  is  but  a  foe, 
Whether  he  be  before  us  or  behind  us  ; 
Or  if  with  the  expiry  of  the  breath 
Memory  expire  ;  —  if  of  the  guilty  past 
Hereafter  there  remain  no  vestige,  save 
The  soul'j  surmise  that  something  is  forgot, 
As  of  the  outburnt  torch  remains  the  fume, 
Then  better  death  than  life  to  many  men  ;  — 
Or  if  this  strange  mind-malady  of  death 
Be  but  incurable  unconsciousness, 
Then  all  are  dead  when  sleeping,  and  all  sleep ; 
So  all  do  die,  and  often,  that  do  live. 
I  in  this  cave  will  strive  to  sleep  a  little, 
Dying  awhile  that  I  may  longer  live  ; 
Live,  as  I  hope,  to  yet  see  die  mine  enemy. 
Let  me  be  roused,  if  I  repose  too  long. 

\Exit  Abner,  and  Saul  enters  the  cave,  and  immedi 
ately  Malzah  passes  by. 

Malzah. 
I  awoke,  I  awoke  ;  —  I  was  not  born, 
I  was  not  born  like  thee  ; 
But  how  long  I  'd  slept  or  ere  I  awoke, 
None  knoweth,  only  He. 


I 


374  S^U^- 

I  awoke  in  heaven,  and  many  a  day 
I  kept  it,  ere  I  fell ; 
What  were  'fore  heaven  I  cannot  say  ; 
Nor  what  shall  follow  hell. 

Nor  do  I  know  how  long  shalt  thou 
Remain  on  Israel's  throne, 
Should  David  and  his  angry  men 
Discover  thee  alone. 

{Interior  of  the  cave.  Saul  lie&  doivn  and  falls  asleep  ;  then 
David,  Abiathar,  and  Abishai  advance  from  amongst 
their  men,  who  are  in  the  sides  of  the  cave.) 

Abiathar. 

Now,  now  the  opportunity  is  come 

To  cut  him  off.     Now  wherefore  shouldst  thou  scruple  ? 

Would  he  spare  thee  now,  wert  thou  in  his  power  ?  — 

Nay,  I  will  not  hear  even  thee  plead  for  him  ! 

Did  he  himself  once  listen  unto  pleadings. 

Vented  with  agony  and  wringing  hands. 

For  me  and  my  dear  father  and  my  kindred  ? 

O,  end  him  now  ;  talk  not  of  his  anointing :  ^ 

For  he,  in  our  so  impiously  shed  blood. 

Himself  hath  washed  the  anointing  from  his  heart. 

Abishai. 

Yes,  end  him  ;  for  behold  the  hour  is  come 
Of  which  God  spake  when  He  said  unto  thee, 
"  I  will  deliver  thy  foe  into  thy  power, 
That  thou  shalt  use  him  as  thou  may'st  think  fit." 
Nay,  listen,  David ;  listen  to  us,  cousin. 

David. 
I  will  not  listen  to  his  taking  off. 


SAUL. 


375 


Abishai. 
He  will  take  thee  off  perhaps  this  very  day. 


The  Lord  defends  me. 


David. 
I  will  not  harm  Saul. 


Abiathar. 
Is,  then,  my  story  naught  ?     Hast  thou  forgot 
The  story  of  the  day  when  all  my  kindred 
Perished  before  his  bidding?     ^s  the  leaves, 
Green  and  all  juicy,  and  the  boughs,  still  waxing 
Lustier,  of  some  brave  tree,  on  sudden  smitten, 
Even  in  the  verdant  summer  of  its  glory. 
By  the  red  bolt  of  heaven,  their  massacre. 

0  David,  think  it  was  at  his  fell  order 

That  Doeg,  the  Edomitish  infidel,  -, 

Set  on  my  kindred,  and  the  gory  soil 
Strewed  with  the  carnage  of  a  sacred  race. 
Think  on  the  horrible  destruction  whence 

1  rushed,  like  splinter  'fore  the  woodman's  axe  ;  — 
Think  on  the  day  when  thou  didst  see  approaching 
My  wounded  self  to  thee. 

David. 

I  do  remember ; 
Full  well,  Abiathar,  do  I  remember : 
But  cease  thy  wild  appeals  to  me,  nor  ask 
Me,  parricidal,  to  destroy  the  fount 
And  spring  of  Jonathan's  and  Michal's  life ; 
Requiting  his  foul  sacrilege,  committed 
On  thee  and  on  thy  consecrated  line, 
By  one  upon  himself.     Remember  Saul 
Is  still  the  Lord's  Anointed. 

Abiathar. 

He  is  banned ; 
He  is  the  Lord's  no  longer. 


u 


!■ 


t 


If 

1  I  S  1    ^ 


m^ 


'  ii'i 


376 


SAUL, 


Abishai. 

Cousin,  go : 
Retire  ;  thou  shalt  not  see  what  we  will  do. 

Abiathar. 
Away ;  stand  back :  I  '11  kill  him. 

David. 

Cease,  rash  man : 

Defile  not  thou  thy  sacerdotal  hand, 

Though  I  should  let  thee,  which  I  do  not  mean. 

Abiathar. 
I  will  avenge  me.     Mine  own  arm  shall  work 
Wherein  thine  fails  thee.     Moses  had  no  shadow 
Of  my  grim  provocation,  yet  he  slew. 

♦  David. 

Thou  shalt  not  slay  my  father,  and  the  Lord's 

Anointed. 

Abiathar. 

He  is  doomed  ;  —  stand  back,  I  bid  thee. 

Abishai. 
Cousin,  I  pray  you  take  his  hfe  at  once  ; 
Aid,  in  the  taking  of  it,  keep  your  own. 

David. 

{Having  approached  and  cut  off  Saul  *s  skirt, ) 

I  will  take  this,  but  not  his  Hfe.     In  person 
He  is  too  near,  if  not  too  dear,  to  me. 
For  Michal's  sake  and  Jonathan's,  and  more 
Because  he  is  indeed  the  Lord's  Anointed, 
I  will  not  touch  him  vengefully. 

Abiathar. 

Howl !  howl ! 
For  now  there  is  no  Blood-Avenger,  who 


SAUL. 


377 


Dare  follow  this  vile  king,  whose  'circling  crown 
Is  to  him  e'en  a  city  of  refuge'  walls. 
Ah,  I  perceive  my  words  are  all  in  vain  I 

David. 

( To  his  companions  in  the  sides  of  the  cave^  having  approached 

them. ) 
Here  is  the  utmost  verge  that  I  will  reach, 
Against  the  King  advancing.     God  forbid  '' 

That  I  should  break  yon  consecrated  vessel, 
Although,  its  hallowed  wine  being  spilled  and  drained, 
It  now  stands  foul  and  empty.     Friends,  beseech  not : 
I  dare  not  hold  him  common,  and  life's  flame 
Quench  in  yon  lamp  by  Samuel  once  made  sacred. 

{The  Band  murmur;  and  Saul  having  a^voke,  rise{  and 
leaves  the  cave,  David  and  his  men  coming  forth  into  the 
midst  of  it.) 

Remain  you  here  :  let  no  one  follow  me 

(David  goes  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and,  seeing  Saul  at  a 
little  distance,  departing,  calls  after  him.) 

Stay,  stay,  injurious  King;  O  father,  stay. 

If  I  may  yet  so  style  you.     Why  dost  thou 

Listen  to  those  who  say  I  am  disloyal  ? 

Lo,  in  this  hour,  and  in  this  very  cave. 

How  easily  could  I  have  ta'en  your  life  ; 

As  some  did  bid  me  do,  but  I  refrained. 

"  I  will  not  harm,"  I  said,  "  the  Lord's  Anointed." 

In  proof  of  which  behold  here  your  robe's  skirt, 

Which  sole  I  took,  yet  could  as  easily 

Have  ta'en  your  life  as  it.     Yes,  look  on  this 

Upbraiding  proof;  yes,  look  on  this  dumb  witness, 

Then  stand  convicted  of  injustice  toward  me. 

Believe,  O  cruel  and  suspicious  King, 


%y 


37S 


SAUL. 


II  i 


II  1 


That  since  I  took  but  this  and  spared  your  life,  — 
At  last,  believe  me  honest.     O  my  father, 
Why  hast  thou  ever  deemed  that  I  was  other  ? 
Why  dost  thou  hunt  me  like  a  beast  o'  the  forest? 
Why  should  your  Majesty  thus  chase  a  flea  ? 
Why  hunt  a  dead  dog  over  these  bleak  hills  ? 
Let  the  Lord  judge  between  us  ;  let  the  Lord 
Be  mine  Avenger :  for  I  will  not  harm  you. 

0  that  great  Israel  should  have  dread  of  me  !  — 
Have  dread  of  one  so  poor  and  weak  as  I  ! 

For  what  could  I  do  (e'en  were  I  so  minded) 
Against  your  throne  ?  and  'gainst  your  sacred  form 

1  nurse  no  ill  design  :  — believe  me,  I 

Will  naught  against  your  seat  or  soul  contrive : 
Let  the  Lord  be  our  judge  ;  let  him  inquire ; 
Yes,  let  him  plead  my  cause  still  with  your  anger ; 
Let  him  therefrom,  at  length,  deliver  me. 


David! 


Saul  {without). 
David. 


My  father ! 

Saul. 

David,  is  it  thou  ? 
Is  that  indeed  thy  voice,  my  lost  son  David  ? 
Nay,  I  confess  that  thou  art  better  than  I  ; 
Because  I  have  requited  thee  with  evil, 
Whereas  thou  hast  requited  me  with  good. 
Thou  hast  now  proved  thy  past  fidelity 
And  present  friendship,  by  thus  sparing  me 
When  in  thy  power  ;  for  when  foes  come  on  foes, 
They  do  not  let  them  thus  escape  unhurt. 
May  God  reward  thee,  then,  for  this  forbearance ! 
And  now  I  am  convinced  thou  shalt  be  king, 
And  give  a  dynasty  to  Israel : 


SAUL. 

Then  swear  unto  me  by  the  Lord,  that  thou, 
When  thy  strong  hour  of  sovereignty  is  come, 
Wilt  not  extirpate  my  posterity. 


379 


I  swear  it. 


David. 

{Re-enters  the  cave). 


Saul. 
It  is  well ;  —  repose  in  peace. 
I  will  no  more  pursue  him  ;  I  am  now 
As  some  sad  country  that  has  long  been  harried 
By  predatory  hordes,  and  that,  decayed 
By  its  own  follies,  vices,  feuds,  and  factions, 
Hath  more  to  suffer  yet  from  the  barbarian, 
Who  shall  at  last  possess  it  and  o'errule.  {Exit. 


SCENE    IX. 

Gibeah.    An  apartment  in  the  palace.     Saul  and  Jonathan. 

Jonathan. 
I  say  your  Majesty  has  not  the  right 
To  take  again  thus  that  which  once  you  Ve  given :  — 
Nay,  have  not  given  ;  for  he  bought  my  sister,  — 
Bought  her  of  you  with  peril  of  his  life. 

Saul. 

Hast  thou  forgot  that,  by  our  holy  law, 

Parents  may  stone  a  disobedient  child  ? 

They  can  retake  the  life  which  they  have  given : 

How  much  more  then  may  I,  both  king  and  parent, 

Withdraw  my  child  from  an  approved  traitor,  — 

Traitor  thyself;  for  well  I  know  thou  lov'st  him 


38o 


SAUL. 


r! 

m  \ 


Better  than  thou  dost  me  or  mother  or  sister. 
Peace  ;  for  thy  sister  is  his  wife  no  longer : 
She  shall  be  given  to  Phalti. 

Jonathan. 

Rather  say, 
She  shall  be  stolen  from  DaA'id. 

Saul. 

She  is  childless 

Yet ;  and  I  '11  see  there  shall  not  be  a  creature 

Evoked  from  the  abysses  of  their  love  : 

Though  thou,  I  know,  wouldst  gladly  see  a  being 

Made  up  of  Saul  and  David  ;  so  that  I 

Could  not  destroy  the  one  without  the  other. 

Jonathan. 

Am  I  myself  not  next  unto  the  throne, 
In  the  due  order  of  inheritance  ? 

•  Saul. 

Thou  art ;  but  wouldst  vacate  for  him  that  throne, 
Didst  thou  possess  it,  and  had  I,  being  dead, 
Lost  power  to  punish  thee  for  crown  resigned, 
And  him  for  proudly  seizing  't.     He  shall  lose. 
Not  merely  wife,  but  life  :  —  yes,  he  shall  die 
Whilst  I  yet  live ;  for,  whilst  he  Uves,  I  cannot 
Or  live  or  die  m  peace. 

Jonathan. 

What  mean  you  ?  —  but 
Do  as  you  will,  for  it  is  many  a  day 
Since  you  were  ruled  by  reason.     Yet  some  freak 
We  had  indulged  you  in,  but  this  last  folly 
Crowns  David's  wrongs,  and  heaps  your  deeds  unholy. 

\^Exit, 


SAUL. 


381 


iholy. 
\Exit, 


Saul. 

I  have  a  sense  which  he  hath  not,  or,  if 

He  hath  it,  it  is  in  him  merely  hitent ; 

A  sense  prophetic,  that  appears  from  him 

Withheld  by  this  strange  friendship.     Talk  of  love  ; 

Why,  I  love  David  much  as  he  doth :   David, 

Unhappy  man !  yet  more  unhappy  I  ; 

He,  as  by  destiny,  rising  towards  the  throne, 

I  all  resolved  till  death  to  keep  my  seat, 

And  leave  it  to  my  heirs.     How  compass  it 

Is  now  the  theme  of  cogitation  ;  how  ? 

If  he  could  change  his  nature,  —  be  no  longer 

That  which  he  is  ;  and  if  he,  being  able. 

Were  also  willing,  —  then  'twere  easily  done. 

Or  could  myself  consent  to  a  great  humbling. 

Forgetting  that  my  children,  in  such  humbling. 

Would,  too,  be  humbled,  that  way  might  the  peace 

Flow  on  between  us,  like  a  silent  river 

Which  no  keel  ploughs,  nor  grim  sea-monster  churns 

Oft  into  eddies  and  distains  with  blood,  — 

Then  might  we  by  degrees  exchange  our  stations 

And  functions,  even  as  the  Sun  and  Moon 

(With  sweet  consent,  unbittered  by  dishonor) 

Do  in  the  sky,  he  rising  to  my  setting. 

But  if  he  could  his  nature  change,  say,  would  he  ? 

Say,  will  the  strong  forego  his  strength,  the  wise 

His  wisdom,  or  the  clever  his  skill  ?     No,  never  ; 

Neither  can  I  consent  to  leave  the  throne, 

And  all  its  regal  honors  alienate 

From  me  and  mine.     The  stars  shall  sooner  fall 

Each  from  its  sacred  altar  in  the  heavens, 

In  which  they  glow  like  endless  sacrifice. 

Than  that.    That  may  arrive  indeed,  but  not 

(Though  I,  *t  is  true,  begin  to  now  grow  old) 


382 


SAUL. 


Till  bright-eyed  manhood  is  compelled  t'  assume 
The  dull,  cold  stare  of  dotage.     Thus  confirmed 
By  cool  reflection  ;  my  ever-burning  impulse, — 
My  instinct,  being  thus,  by  chilly  logic. 
Inflamed  like  fire  before  the  breath  of  frost, — 
I  will  pursue  him  to  a  mortal  end, 
Will,  with  soul  set  upon  a  tragic  issue, 
Hunt  him  into  the  cold,  still  shades  of  death, 
Since  only  by  his  death  my  line  may  live. 

{Enter  t/te  Znnl\•rv.^i,.) 

Ah,  my  old  friends  !     What  news  ? 

{The  Zii'JiiTES  whisper  to  Saul,  and  then  depart. 

Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  ! 
In  his  old  haunt  on  Hachilah  of  the  wild, 
And  doubtless  thereon  his  old  treason  hatching  ! 
{Enter  an  Officer.) 

Three  thousand  men,  with  Abner  in  command. 
Well  chosen  let  them  be  ;  afoot  at  dusk 
To  march  where  I  shall  wish  them.  \Exit  Officer. 

Prompt  my  deeds 
Shall  be  henceforth,  and  close  on  the  conception  ; 
Between  which  and  the  nimble  execution 
No  space  shall  be  wherein  a  doubt  may  lodge, 
Like  moisture  within  walls,  to  freeze  my  will, 
Midst  a  cold  winter  of  anxiety, 
Into  irresolution,  and,  therewith, 
At  last  o'erthrow  my  firm-built  purpose'  frame.      \Exit. 


■i     H 


SAUL, 


3^3 


fart, 
la! 


:CER. 

eeds 


SCENE  X. 

Near  the  wooded  hill  of  Hachilah.      Saul  and  his  staff. 
Enter  an  Officer. 

Officer. 
Your  Majesty,  your  enemy  has  fled 
Out  of  the  covert  fastness  of  the  hill, 
On  to  the  savage  plain. 

Saul. 
On  after  him. 
Bid  Abner  to  advance  his  force  with  speed. 

\Exi:  Oi^FICER. 

Straight  all  assist  to  get  our  men  in  motion  : 
The  soldier  rests  no  more  than  doth  the  ocean. 

.xeimi  staff. 
Wherever  he  shall  flee  to  I  will  chase  him, 
Thougii  u  DC  down  to  hell  I    Now  come,  kind  Faic : 
If  ever  I  have  well  deserved  of  thee, 
Now  will  I.     All  corporeal  vigor,  with  the 
Yet  higher  and  stronger  ministry  of  the  m'lid, 
I  '11  task  unsparing,  and  be  prodigal 
Of  present  pains ;  that  I  may  spare  pains  when 
The  future  comes,  —  may  sit  and  play  the  fool 
When  pilfering  years  have  made  me  weak  and  cool. 

\_Exit, 


Exit. 


SCENE  XI. 

The  wilderness.     Time,  evening. 

David  {alone). 
Saul  comes  again  to  seize  me,  treacherous  man  ! 
Ungrateful  monarch,  when  will  he  forbear  ? 


384 


SAUL. 


Arise  to  my  relief.  O  Lord,  rise  quickly  : 
My  spies  inform  me  that,  in  very  deed, 
He  yonder  comes. 

{Enter  Ahimelkch  the  Hittite  a«(/  Abishai.) 

Good  friends,  what  news  ? 


Ahimelech. 


The  King 


And  all  his  force,  compelled  by  weariness^ 

(For  such  unparalleled  exertions,  both 

In  speed  and  width  of  range  of  his  advance, 

Which,  like  the  month  of  March  astride  the  wind, 

Driving  before  it  winter's  gloomy  reign. 

Were  never  made  beforetime,)  have  encamped  ; 

But,  adding  wariness  to  weariness 

Have  round  them  dug  a  trench,  to  make  secure 

Their  snatch  of  sleep. 

David. 

So  be  it ;  for  the  Lord 
Surrounds  us  stronger  than  their  trench  can  them, 
Nor  ever  sleeps.    Who  '11  bear  me  company 
Their  camp  to  reconnoitre  ? 

Abishai. 

*  David. 

'T  is  well. 

When  night  hath  doubled  her  down-falling  veil, 

We  toward  them  steal.     'T  is  favorable  that 

The  moon  is  mobled  up  in  thick-woven  clouds. 

Abishai. 

The  firmament  is  blank,  and  black  as  is 
A  yet  unlighted  hall :  nor  will  the  stars, 


SAUL. 


3^5 


Methinks,  at  any  time  to-night  find  favor 

To  hold  their  tiny  tapers  in  the  air, 

And  shed  down  light  to  expose  us  ;  for  the  clouds 

Grow  heavier,  and  more  vapor  cometh  up 

From  seaward. 

David. 

Even  so :  let 's  start  at  once. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE  XII. 


The  camp  of  SaUl.  Time^  night.  Saul  sleepiui:;  in  the 
trench^  his  spear  stuck  in  the  ground  near  to  his  head. 
Abner  and  the  rest  lying  around  him.  Enter  David 
and  Abishai,  and  approach  to  Saul. 

David. 

The  King  was  wont  to  have  his  watch  kept  strictly. 

Step  softly  now.     How  odd  to  be  thus  found, 

Walking  by  night  a  narrow  plank  of  hazard, 

Over  a  gulf  of  foes,  with  whom  as  friends 

We  once  trod  life's  broad  road  in  day's  broad  beam ! 

I  know  the  most  of  these  who  come  to  take  me. 

See,  yonder,  Abner  in  the  darkness  lying  ; 

And  there  see  Gad  and  Dan  ;  and  there  lies  Zohab  ; 

And  here,  close  at  our  very  feet,  behold 

The  form  to  be  distinguished  midst  ten  thousand,  — 

The  King,  my  most  unreasonable  foe, 

My  royal,  wretched,,  raging  persecutor. 

Abishai. 
Now,  by  Joi^.ovah,  he  shall  rage  no  more  ! 
Twice  God  hath  given  him  to  thee.     Stand  away, 

as 


386 


SAUL. 


w. 


•T^j  •■ 


That  I  may  strike  him  ;  —  let  him  not  escape. 
Nay,  hinder  not,  but  let  me  now  ;  I  '11  pin  him 
With  his  own  spear  to  the  earth,  and  with  one  blow, 
That  there  shall  need  no  second. 


David. 


Abishai. 


Madman,  hold. 


Release  me ;  for,  by  Heaven,  from  out  his  body 
I  '11  send  his  soul  this  instant  down  to  hell. 

DaVid. 
Thou  shalt  not  harm  him. 

Abishai. 

I '11  not  break  his  nap. 
So  quick  and  clean  I  '11  send  his  spirit  forth, 
That  it  shall  seem  still  sleeping  in  his  frame. 

David. 
See  how  they  all  are  sleeping.     'T  is  the  Lord 
That  seals  their  senses. 

Abishai. 

And  that  seals  Saul's  doom. 
Let  me  avenge  thee :  —  I  will  do  it  for  thee  ;  — 
Look  thou  another  way  :  he  is  thy  father. 

David. 

And  is  he  not  thy  king  ?     Thou  impious  man, 
I  will  not  let  thee  do  it ;  kill  him  not : 
For  who  can  take  the  life  of  God's  Anointed, 
And  yet  be  guiltless  ?    There  requires  no  haste : 
For,  sure  as  God  rules  kings,  who  rule  the  world, 
God's  self  shall  visit  him  ;  or  else  his  time 
Shall  come  that  he  must  die  like  other  men  ; 


SAUL. 


:.^7 


Or  his  gigantic  figure  shall  descend 

And  perish,  yet,  in  battle.     God  forbid 

That  I  should  lift  my  hand  against  the  Lord's 

Anointed,  and  to-night,  unbidden,  end 

His  gloomy  reign  !     Now  take  his  spear,  that  stands 

There  at  his  bolster,  and  the  water-cruse, 

And  let  us  quick  begone. 

Abishai. 

And  leave  him  whole  ? 
Let  me  impale  him  with  the  spear.     I  '11  pin  him 
Down  with  i:,  as  a  lad  would  pin  a  fly. 
Nay,  this  were  fonder  than  the  cutting  off 
Of  his  robe's  skirt ! 

David. 

I  will  not  let  thee  hurt  him. 
Obey  at  once  :  take  them,  and  let  us  go. 

[Exeuni,  KmsKM,  taking  the  spear  and  C7-use. 


SCENE   XIIL 

77ie  top  of  a  hill  at  a  distance  from  the  camp.      Time,  immedi' 
ately  succeeding  that  of  the  last  scene. 

David  {shouting). 

Awake,  awake,  ye  mockery  of  soldiers ! 
What,  ho  1  aw  ake,  awake  !  O  Saul,  awake  ! 
Abner,  awake.     Why  answerest  thou  not,  Abner? 

Abner  {from  the  camp). 
Who  art  thou  that  thus  call'st  upon  the  King .'' 


388 


SAUL. 


M 


;  I 


David. 

Art  thou  not  Abner,  that  thus  answerest  ? 

And  art  thou  not  the  highest  in  command  ; 

A  veteran  soldier,  deeply  versed  in  war's 

Precautions,  that  forbid  surprise  ;  albeit 

Round  royal  Israel  hast  careless  set 

Unwakeful  watch  of  slumbering  sentinels  ? 

Who  is  there  trusted  Hke  to  thee,  who  art 

The  keeper  of  the  King  ?  —  then  why  hast  thou 

Not  kept  him  better,  and  debarred  approach 

Of  stalking  danger  ?  for  this  night,  behold  ! 

Upon  a  stealthy  and  unnoticed  foot, 

Has  been  one  midst  you  seeking  Israel's  life. 

As  the  Lord  liveth,  ye  deserve  to  die 

For  having  failed  to  guard  his  own  Anointed. 

Was  this  the  discipline  when  I  was  with  you  ? 

Could  this  thing  have  been  done  when  I  commanded  ? 

For  look  ye  where  the  King's  spear  is,  and  cruse 

Of  water,  that  was  standing  at  his  bolster. 

Saul  {from  the  camp). 

Who  chides  our  chieftain,  and  who  boasts  of  prizes 
Ta'en  from  our  presence  and  the  jaws  of  death  ? 
Art  thou  not  he  for  whom  we  long  have  sought  ? 
Can  that  again  thy  voice  be,  my  son  David  ? 

David. 

It  is  my  voice.  —  O,  if  your  Majesty 
But  knew  my  heart  well  as  you  know  my  voice. 
You  would  not  cruelly  thus  persecute  me  ! 
Tell  me,  my  liege,  yea,  tell  me,  Israel, 
What  have  I  done  that  I  am  hunted  thus .'' 
W^hat  ill  intention  do  I  harbor  'gainst  thee. 
That  thou  dost  thus  persist  to  seek  my  life  ? 


SAUL. 


l39 


Twice  have  I  spared  thine  own,  when  in  my  power ; 
Twice,  when  thou  knew'st  not,  stood  'twixt  thee  and 

death. 
Behold,  I  stole  into  thy  camp  this  night, 
With  one  fierce  follower,  thy  deadly  foe. 
Deep  sleep  was  on  thy  host,  and  on  thyself; 
And,  midst  thy  wearied  watch,  we  walked  unseen, 
Until  we  stood  before  thee,  lain  supine  ; 
Hard  by  thy  head,  stuck  in  the  ground,  thine  own  — 
But,  as  it  seemed,  our  hand-awaiting  —  spear. 
And  hard  my  comrade  urged  me  to  thy  death  ;  — 
Yea,  there  was  much  to  make  thy  death  a  deed 
Of  dread  desert,  and  to  absolve  my  soul. 
If  I  had  in  thy  blood  my  hands  imbrued. 
But  did  I  fail  thee  in  that  hour,  and  yield 
Thee  to  thy  doom  ?    How  easy  't  were !  —  none  saw. 
None  heard  ;  a  word,  a  look,  —  a  motion,  even,  — 
And  thou  hadst  ceased  to  breathe,  had  ceased  to  reign. 
No  ;  but  thy  cruel  treachery  and  hate 
I  did  requite  with  life-protecting  love. 
And  loyalty  that  scorned  the  traitor's  part : 
Sleeping  I  left  thee,  even  as  I  found. 
And  took  but  these,  thy  spear  and  water-cruse  ; 
Though  on  thy  life-breath,  in  an  angry  snarl, 
We  'd  dire  debate,  like  spectres  in  a  dream, 
I  left  thee  scatliless,  and  my  comrade  made 
Thus  leave  thee,  though  he  panted  for  thy  blood. 
Why  dost  thou  pant  for  mine  ?     What  baleful  spirit, 
Vindictive,  prompts  thee  1     Hear  me,  Israel,  now, 
O  hear  me,  thou  insatiable  Saul  ; 
If  it  be  God  inciteth  thee  against  me, 
Let  me  appease  him  by  an  offering  : 
But  if,  instead,  it  be  but  wicked  men, 
Be  they  accurst  in  his  most  holy  sight ; 


I  il 


390 


SAUL. 


For  they  at  length  have  forced  me  into  exile, 
Saying,  "  Worship  false  gods,  in  false  temples  bow." 
Cease  longer  seeking,  then,  to  spill  my  blood 
Before  God's  face  ;  for  I  will  go  from  Israel. 

Saul. 

Where'er  thou  go,  may  thou  be  blest  for  this ! 
David,  I  am  convinced  I  have  done  wrong ; 
For  since  thou  hast  again  respected  me, 
i  am  persuaded  thou  dost  deem  me  sacred. 
Return  ;  I  will  no  longer  seek  thy  life. 
Let  Heaven  do  whate'er  it  hath  ordained  : 
My  hand  shall  never  with  thy  blood  be  stained. 
I  've  played  the  fool ;  thee  outraged  grievously. 


%    "A' 


David. 

Behold,  O  King,  your  spear !    Send  one  to  fetch  it. 
And  may  God  render  unto  all  of  us 
According  to  our  justice  and  forbearance. 
How  I  have  twice  forborne  to  take  thy  life, 
When  it  before  me  lay,  like  a  lost  jewel, 
He  who  beholds  all  deeds  knows  even  as  thou. 
Let  him  judge  now  between  us  :  and  since  I 
Continued  to  regard  your  life,  so  may  he  mine 
Continue  to  preserve,  and  save  me  from  you. 


Saul. 

Fear  me  no  longer  !    Thou  hast  killed  my  malice 
This  night  by  not  killing  me,  but  fearing  God ; 
Whose  blessing  be  upon  thee,  my  son  David, 
For  thou  art  destined  yet  to  do  great  things, 
And  shalt  still  over  all  thy  foes  prevail. 
I  swear  that  I  will  never  more  molest  thee. 


SAUL. 

David. 
Despite  his  oaths,  I  know  that  by  his  hand 
I  yet  shall  perish,  should  I  stay  in  Israel. 
Naught  better  is  there  left  for  me,  than  that 
I  should  escape  at  once  into  Philistia  ; 
So  that  he  shall  despair  to  find  me  more. 


391 


\Exit, 


^/h^ 


ACT    VI. 


im 


•  SCENE   I. 

Gibeah.   An  apartment  in  the  palace.     Saul  and  an  Officer 
of  the  royal  household. 

Officer. 

Your  Majesty,  David  hath  shelter  sought 
With  Achish,  King  of  Gath. 

Saul. 

There  let  him  stay, 
And  never  be  his  name  more  mentioned  here.  • 
Leave  me,  and  see  my  latest  orders  done. 

\^Exit  Officer. 
Samuel  is  dead,  and  I  prize  life  no  longer ; 
My  children  hate  me,  or,  at  best,  despise  me  ; 
Ahinoam  is  mouldering  in  the  grave. 
I  am  forsaken  now  of  God  and  man  ; 
For  though  no  one  dare  openly  rebel, 
No  more  exists  that  fond  alacrity 
Shown  to  my  hests  when  first  proclaimed  my  reign. 
Now  all  are  slow,  and  must  be  bidden  loudly  ; 
Or  if  there  be  in  some  a  show  of  zeal, 
'T  is  but  eye-service. 


|-ii4--}-    I 


SAUL.  393 

(Enter  a  Courier.) 

Well,  what  is  thy  news  ? 

Courier. 

My  liege,  of  the  Philistines,  who  have  crossed 
Once  more  our  border,  and  encamp  at  Shunem. 

Saul. 
Before  I  bid  them  welcome,  say  their  numbers. 

Courier. 

In  truth,  't  was  hard  to  count ;  but  they  are  greater 
Than  e'er  before  were  brought  against  your  arms. 

Saul  {aside). 

At  length  I  feel  that  I  am  growing  loath 

To  meet  them,  hazarding  my  life  for  others. 

And  yet  why  cherish  't,  since  I  prize  it  not  ? 

How  sayest,  sirrah,  thou  knowest  not  their  numbers. 

But  knowest  they  are  more  than  former  hosts  ? 

" The  more  the  merrier"  is  the  word  at  revels  ; 

And,  more  their  numbers,  more  our  sword  shall  revel 

Up  to  its  neck  in  blood,  and,  as  a  drunkard 

Over  his  cups  is  loath  to  journey  home, 

So  shall  it  grieve  to  return  unto  its  scabbard. 

Go,  get  thee  some  good  cheer,  for  thou  look'st  weary. 

[Exit  Cov\uv.K. 
Now  come,  thou  butcher  Saul,  thou  man  of  blood, 
Rise  up  and  kill  ;  rise  up  within  thyself 
What  matters  what  thine  enemy's  numbers  are. 
If  thou  and  thine  be  yet  as  once  they  were  .''         [Exit. 


xr 


394 


SAUL. 


SCENE   II. 


*'* 


t    ii 


Another  apartment  in  the  palace. 

Malzah  {slowly  pacing  to  and  fro). 
Alas,  alas  !  , 

If  I  were  mortal  I  should  now  expire, 
Yrom  rumination  and  forced  solitude. 
To  be  restricted  to  these  palace  walls. 
Is  nearly  as  intolerably  dull 
As  to  lie  hutched  i'  the  compass  of  Saul's  skull 
(As  late  I  did),  like  chicks  within  their  eggs  :  — 
'T  is  more  ;  for  'tween  each  moon's  new  birth  and  full, 
I  could  abandon  it  to  stretch  my  legs. 
Why  am  I  still  retained  by  Heaven's  warden. 
Who  no  more  urges  me  to  enter  Saul  ? 
Yet  sure  I  feel  her  influence  slackening  ; 
And  Saul 's  gone  to  the  wars,  and  (strange  for  him) 
Loath  and  despairing :  all  which  seems  to  tell 
That  I,  full  soon,  shall  bid  to  him  farewell. 
Poor,  wretched  monarch,  he  is  ever  gloomy  : 
And  though  at  times  he  strives  to  shake  off  sorrow, 
As  I  have  seen  an  old  and  half-blind  eagle 
Shake  out  its  haggard  pinions  o'er  its  eyrie, 
Then  wind  with  youthful  speed  into  the  skies, 
True  cheerfulness  of  heart  is  from  him  gone. 
Why  did  I  ever,  thoughtlessly,  engage 
To  make  his  soul  more  wretched  than  mine  own  1 
I  have  my  moments  of  insane  delight, 
But  he  is  never  pleasant,  never  glad. 
'T  was  in  an  evil  hour  I  came  to  tempt  him : 
For  this  most  vile  transaction  ends  not  here ; 
But  I  shall  ever  self-upbrai dings  know 
Oft  as  I  meet  him  in  the  realms  below.  [Exit. 


SAUL. 


395 


SCENE    III. 

Gilboa.     The  Hebrew  camp.     Enter  Saul  ana   a   Hebrew 

Genb:ral. 


Saul. 

The  foe  hath  marched  on  Aphek  :  we  must  wheel, 
And  plant  our  answering  standards  on  Jezrccl. 

\^Exit  General. 
With  Gilgal  in  my  memory',  and  all 

The  evil  dona  and  suffered  by  me  since, 

I  fear  to  fight  this  last  and  greatest  host. 

Without  some  sacred  sanction  ;  and  repent 

Now,  more  than  with  my  old  and  fixed  remorse, 

The  slaughtering  of  Nob's  prophets,  though  they  were 

Fomenters  of  rebellion  to  a  man. 

And  well  I  know  that  I  was  then  possessed  ; 

I  know  that  I  was  then  beneath  the  demon  : 

Therefore  Jehovah  may  be  merciful. 

And,  not  imputing  it  to  me,  yet  answer ; 

For  I  will  order  that  his  priests  forthwith 

Assemble  on  this  hill  and  seek  him  for  me. 

{Enter  Abnek.) 
Abner,  how  seem  our  men  ? 

Abner. 

They  seem  to  think 
Defeat  and  death  are  surely  waiting  for  them. 
To  take  them  to  the  assault,  or  with  them  hope 
To  bear  the  brunt  of  battle  when  it  comes, 
'T  were  fond  as  hope  to  stop  an  avalanche 
With  yielding  air,  or  falling  rocks  with  water.   ■ 


m\ 


396 


SAUL. 


Saul. 

I  know  that  they,  as  once  they  did  at  Gilgal, 

Increase  each  other's  bodings  by  communion. 

But  hear  it,  and  then  wonder  at  it,  Abner : 

I  have  resolved  on  what  may  give  them  courage ; 

I  have  resolved  again  to  seek  the  Lord : 

His  priests  shall  seek  for  me  his  Oracle. 

Abner. 

'T  is  joy  to  hear  you  uttering  such  words  : 

And  not  a  soldier  but  will  swear  new  fealty 

To  you  and  yours,  when  hearing  of  such  purpose. 

Saul. 

I  know  not  that.  —  However,  gather  thou 
The  priests,  to  ask  the  Lord  what  he  doth  wait 
For  me  to  do,  —  me  whom  they  still  must  hate. 


Abner. 
Be  this  but  the  beginning  of  fair  days  ! 


\Exit  Abner. 


Saul. 

I  feel  that  I,  at  last,  am  come  unto 

The  crisis  and  the  pivot  of  my  fortunes. 

Long  lost  amongst  dark  mounts  and  crags,  at  length 

I  stand  upon  a  pointed  pinnacle, 

From  which  I  shall  ascend  into  the  sky, 

Or  topple  to  the  abyss.  {Exit. 


SAUL. 


397 


SCENK    IV. 


NKR. 


th 


Exit. 


Aphek.  The  Philistine  army  deploying.  At  length  appear 
AcHisH,  King  of  Gath,  and  his  /one,  follozvcd  in  the 
rear  by  David  and  his  six  hundred  men.  The  Philistine 
Princes  observing. 

First  Prince. 

Now,  by  great  Dagon,  why  are  tlicsc  found  here  ? 
Shall  we  bring  danger  to  our  midst,  and  hug  it 
As  though  it  did  not  bare  its  bristling  teeth, 
And  snarl  and  scowl  upon  us,  from  Jezreel  ? 
By  I3a  ,   't  is  the  maddest  thing  I  Ve  known, 
To  pres  J  a  proven  enemy  to  our  bosom.  — 
'T  is  well  we  've  seen  this,  ere  too  late  perceived 
In  the  dim  midst  of  battle's  storm  and  struggle. 

Second  Prince. 

Well  said,  my  gallant  lord.     Shall  we  by  day 

Receive  the  accomplice  of  a  band  of  thieves 

Into  our  house,  so  that  he  may  have  power 

T'  open  its  doors  at  midnight  to  the  burglars  ? 

Gath,  wherefore  hast  thou  hither  brought  these  fellows, 

Who  in  the  battle  must  perforce  be  traitors. 

Or  unto  us  or  to  their  king  and  country  ? 

Third  Prince. 

Nay,  in  the  name  of  safety,  this  is  seeking 
To  perish  by  the  alien  hands  that  hate  us. 

Fourth  Prince. 

O,  lower  than  the  lowest  leap  of  folly, 
Achish,  to  trust  Phihstia  shall  find 
Faitfiful  auxiliaries  in  yon  Hebrew  band  ! 


398 


SAUL, 


m 


First  Prince. 

Let  them  return  ;  —  or  stay  and  guard  the  baggage : 
They  shall  not  mingle  with  us  in  the  fight. 

ACHISH. 

Peace,  angry  cousins  :  he  who  at  their  head,      ' 
Tallest,  comes  like  a  galley's  prow,  is  David, 
Deep  implicated  enemy  of  Saul. 

Third  Prince. 

Do  we  not  know  him,  even  to  our  cost? 

Be  not  your  Grace  deceived.     Let  him  withdraw  ; 

Lest  he,  betraying,  should  upon  us  turn, 

E'en  in  the  midst  and  imminence  of  the  strife. 

First  Prince. 

That  will  he,  when  the  battle  grows  embroiled. 
What !  shall  we  take  a  headsman  to  the  field, 
Whose  practised  arm  may  toward  us  fatal  wield  ? 

•         '     Fourth  Prince. 

Too-generous  Gath,  imagine  not  for  that 

He  feeds  now  at  thy  hand,  that  thou  hast  tamed  him. 

As  the  wild  beast  borne  to  its  native  woods 

Forgets  his  keeper  and  attempts  to  tear  him. 

So  shall  thy  cHent,  found  among  his  nation, 

Regain  towards  us  his  old  injurious  bent, 

First  Prince. 
Hath  not  the  beast  oft  tasted  of  our  blood  ? 
Did  he  not  buy  —  plebeian  that  he  is  I  — 
Saul's  daughter,  his  so  lately  royal  wife, 
With  —  O  dishonor,  shall  I  name  it ! — with 
Twice  told  a  hundred  foreskins  ?  —  and  what  better 
Shaggy  peace-offering  could  he  take  to  Saul  • 

Than  were  our  heads  1 


SAUL.  399 

Several  Princes. 
Slay  him ! 

Second  Prince. 

By  Dagon,  and  his  prone,  afifronted  image, 
Broken  before  their  Ark  !     Gath,  hadst  not  sworn, 
He  and  his  band  should  now  be  cut  to  pieces. 
Let  them  begone,  for  fear  they  die  before  thee, 
To  appease  vexed  Dagon  and  the  grieving  manes 
Of  the  PhiUstine  legions  he  hath  slaughtered. 

Fourth  Prince. 

Deem  us  not  timorous,  my  Lord  of  Gath  ; 
We  have  sound  reason  for  suspicion  ;  for 
One-sided  favors  breed  no  sterling  friendship. 
The  breathing  for  a  while  a  foreign  air 
Corrects  no  native  tartness  of  the  blood, 
More  than  tide- waters,  cupped  within  the  hand, 
Do  lose  the  native  saltness  of  the  sea. 
Let  him  retire  :  whate'er  he  was,  he  is. 

ACHISH. 

Chide  me  no  longer  ;  for  he  shall  begone,  — 
Though  better  or  more  faithful  have  I  none.    ; 

First  Prince. 
My  Lord  of  Gatli,  see  to  it. 

Third  Prince. 

Do  so,  my  Lord  ; 
For  't  is  not  well  this  recreant  stay  here. 
To  rouse  our  wrath  or  put  our  souls  in  fear. 

•  \ExeuHt  the  Princes. 


'I- 


Ill 
1 ;  i 


Ml 


400 


SAUL. 


ACHISH  {to  David,  who  has  now  approached  him). 

David,  those  lords,  my  princely  peers,  mistrust  thee. 
Thou  must  return,  for  their  displeasure  's  high. 
Yet  do  I  find  thee  unimpeachable, 
And  grieve  to  lose  the  service  of  thine  arm. 

David. 

My  kind  Protector,  say  what  have  I  done, 
Since  I  have  found  asylum  in  Phihstia, 
That  now  1  am  suspected } 

ACHISH. 

Ask  me  not. 
Thou  art  as  faultless  now  in  my  esteem 
As  were  a  ministering  angel  of  thy  God 
Faultless  in  his  great  service  ;  yet  our  princes 
Have,  with  bad  unanimity,  declared 
Thou  shalt  not  with  them  play  thy  part  i'  the  field  : 
Hence,  soon  as  dawns  to-morrow's  streaking  light, 
Haste  back  to  Ziklag ;  lest  the  Amalekite 
Ravage  the  south,  and,  on  the  wings  of  ire. 
Consume  thy  substance  with  swift  sword  and  fire. 

[Exit  AcHisH. 

David. 

They  do  mistrust  me  with  a  grounded  dread. 

To  Ziklag  let  me  go,  nor  wish  to  stay 

And,  perhaps,  see  issue  of  disastrous  day ; 

For  howsoever  the  event  may  fall, 

It  must  be  hurtful  or  to  me  or  Saul.  [Exit. 


SAUL. 


401 


SCENE   V. 


ISH. 


Zxit. 


yezreel.     Time,  the  morrow.     Enter  Saul  and  Abner. 

Saul. 
Rapid  this  march  hath  been  ;  — but  O,  I  'm  sad. 
The  prophets  have  not  honestly  inquired  !  — 
No  wonder ;  —  neither  wonder  what  I  '11  do. 
I  will  have  knowledge  of  a  kind  beyond 
That  of  my  present  insight.     In  dark  hour 
I  persecuted  those  who  dealt  with  spirits. 
Why  did  I  it  with  o'er-officious  zeal, 
To  please  Jehovah,  who  now  leaves  me  darkling  ? 
Nay,  look  not  grave,  Abner ;  rebuke  me  not : 
My  mind  is  bent  unto  my  altered  lot. 
Find  for  me  now,  I  charge  thee  by  our  kinship, 
One  that  hath  gotten  a  familiar  spirit. 

Abner. 
Good  cousin,  pray  have  not  recourse  to  witchcraft ! 

Saul. 
It  is  the  best  craft  going  :  for  since  Samuel 
Died,  priests  are  all  impostors  ;  and  the  line 
Of  Aaron,  long  imagined  half  omniscient, 
Are  blank  as  other  men. 

Abner. 

What  would  you  do  ? 
This  is  the  very  moving  of  despair  : 
And  never  did  despair  yet  win  a  field, 
Or  sable  doubt  yet  yean  white  victory  I 

Saul. 
I  can  no  longer  Hve,  coz,  thus  1     O,  I 
Could  live  on  hope,  as  the  chameleon 


402 


SAUL. 


Is  said  to  live  on  air !  but  faith  has  ceased 
To  animate  me  in  these  latter  years  ; 
And  what  there  is  hereafter,  I  have  lately 
Forgot  to  fear,  as  long  since  ceased  to  hope  for. 

Abner, 
Nay,  cousin,  cease  ;  or  I  indeed  must  leave  you. 

Saul. 

E'en  strife  and  change  can  now  but  feebly  stir  me. 
I  feel  I  'm  growing  old ;  and  creep  along 
The  remnant  of  my  shortened  days  of  age, . 
Indifferent,  toward  where  looms  desolate 
Death's  sullen  land.     As  a  tired  traveller 
Crosses  a  dull,  monotonous,  windy  common, 
Beyond  which  lies  his  goal,  some  smoky  town. 
Like  him  I  journey  to  some  foul  obscure. 
O,  I  am  sick  to  the  bottom  of  my  being ! 
And  there  is  no  physician  ;  no  going  back 
To  youth,  and  health,  and  herd-keeping  in  Gibeah. 
They  say  that  beggars  may  not  choosers  be ; 
And  I  have  knocked  at  heaven's  door  in  vain, 
So  I  will  e'en  betake  me  to  another; 
For  some  superior  guidance  to  mine  own 
Mere  veteran  skill  and  courage  have  I  will. 

Abner. 

But  it  is  said  that  all  familiar  spirits 
Are  spirits  of  evil. 

Saul. 


Than  myself  there  '11  be 
More  evil  none,  not  one  more  desperate. 
I  will  inquire  myself,  for  I  am  set. 


\Exit. 


SAUL. 

Abner. 

I  tremble  :  for  I  fear  the  hand  of  doom 

Is  on  him,  since  no  good  may  come  from  such 

Dark  consultation  ;  and  it  hath  been  said 

None  seek  such,  only  they  from  whom  God's  fled. 

I  '11  after  him  ;  for,  once  this  purpose  known, 

'T  will  soon  be  bruited  over  all  the  army. 

{^Re-enter  Saul  and  a  Soldier  ivith  him.) 

Saul. 

The  devil 's  found  much  sooner  than  the  Lord, 
By  those  "who  dare  to  seek  him.     This  man  says 
There  is  a  woman  now  near  Endor  living 
That  speaks  by  help  of  a  familiar  spuit. 

{To  the  vSoLDiER.) 
Thou  shalt  go  with  me  to  her.  —  Ah,  thou  palest ! 
Why  shouldst  thou  fear  that  which  thou  art  thyself, 
A  ghost  1     Doff  this  surrounding  of  the  flesh, 
And  thou  art  even  that  whereof  we  speak. 

Soldier. 

Hear  me,  your  Majesty  :  I  have  two  comrades 
Who  have  no  touch  of  terror  in  their  souls 
For  either  angry  wraith  or  frowning  fiend, 
And  who,  at  the  great  bidding  of  the  King, 
Would  dare  the  very  devil  in  his  den. 


403 


Exit. 


Saul. 

Go  fetch  them  me  :  they  are  the  very  men. 

I  will  to-night  be  with  the  witch  at  Endor, 

Put  her  in  peril  and  from  it  defend  her ; 

For  that  great  oath  which  I  ''gainst  such  have  sworn, 

I  break  myself  in  my  estate  torlorn. 

How  art  thou,  Abner  t     Come,  good  mate,  be  cheery, 


404 


SAUL. 


Although  this  season  is  but  dark  and  dreary. 
I  prithee,  cousin,  do  not  let  us  quarrel. 
I  go  disguise  me  in  some  plain  apparel. 
See  that  it  is  not  known  where  I  am  gone  ; 
And  be  my  absence  hid  from  Jonathan  : 
And  may  the  powers  that  rule  within  the  air 
Hold  all  until  to-morrow  in  their  care. 


^\ 


Abner. 

I  dare  not  say  Amen  to  that.  —  But  go  ;  — 
And  may  your  errand  work  you  little  woe. 

Saul. 

Whate'er  it  work,  my  will  shall  not  abate 
To  know  the  best  or  know  the  worst  of  fate. 
But  chiefly  to  the  Endor  witch  I  go 
To  be  informed  what 't  is  that  I  should  do. 
Alas  that  I  should  to  such  strait  be  driven 
By  an  old  quarrel  with  resentful  Heaven  ! 
Or,  as  I  doubt,  mere  priest- fomented  feud. 
Inveterate,  being  mixed  with  their  own  blood. 
On  Samuel  may  the  feud's  accountment  fall, 
And  the  blood  be  on  the  fiend  that  stirred  my  gall. 
He  goes  as  gay,  but  sad  at  heart  is  Saul.  — 
Abner,  wilt  with  me  to  my  toilet  come  ? 


Abner. 
Lead  on,  I  '11  follow  j  but  with  dread  I  'm  dumb. 


\ExetinL 


SA  UL. 


4^'5 


SCENE  VI. 

Gibeah.     The  court-yard  of  the  palace.     Time  im  mediately  after 
that  of  the  last  scene. 

Malzah  (running  in  wildly). 

0  joy  !     How  sweet  is  liberty  regained  ! 

1  feel  that  I  am  free  ;  I  cannot  doubt  it. 

Let  me  begone  from  these  abhorred  precincts : 
Yet  not  without  a  look  :   I  cannot  curse  them,  — 
I  cannot  curse  them  in  this  happy  mood, 
So  happy  is  it,  that  I  'm  growing  good. 
Prosperity  would  renew  in  me  the  angel !  — 
How  old  this  palace  doth  appear  already  ! 
But  all  around  it  and  beyond  seems  young. 
Nay,  the  wide  world  will  now  seem  new  to  me, 
And  as  romantic  as  at  first  did  heaven. 

{A  female  servant  crosses  the  court. ) 
Ah, 

There  's  the  sly  slut  that  rated  me  so  often 

For  entering  her  master.     Shall  I  tease  her 

With  swelling  'neath  the  waist,  thick  ankles,  fleas,  or 

Black  nipples,  pimples,  or  the  like  ;  or  even 

Give  her  the  erysipelas  in  the  face. 

That  she  may  seem  a  young  and  fiery  drunkard  ? 

Shall  I  so  blight  her  now  that  none  will  woo  her  ? 

0  no  :  I  cannot  harm  her  in  this  vein. 

For  joy  has  drawn  from  me  my  sting  of  mischief. 

1  will  believe  in  goodness  from  this  hour. 


But  how  I  talk  !  Now  let  me  fly, 
On  legs  of  love  and  wings  of  joy  ; 
And  oeeo  into  each  crvstal  glass 


m 


406  SA17L. 

Of  fountain,  as  I  by  it  pass, 

To  see  if  from  my  visage  go 

The  traces  of  my  recent  woe  : 

Then  blithely  let  me  journey  on 

To  meet  Great  Zaph  ere  sets  the  sun, 

Before  the  sun  sets  'neath  the  sea, 

Again  to  Zaph  re-rendcr  me. 


[Exiy. 


SCENE   VII. 

A  forest  near  the  sea.      Time,  evening.      Zaph  scaled,   and 
Zepho  standing  near  him. 

Zepho  {aside). 
At  eve 

How  happy  in  these  upland  shades, 

To  mark  the  sun  through  vista  glades !  — 

To  mark  the  sun  set  o'er  the  sea, 

While  slumber  comes  o'er  Zaph  and  me  !  — 

My  master  is  about  to  speak. 

Zaph. 

Zepho,  the  sun's  descended  beam 
Hath  laid  his  rod  on  the  ocean  stream  ; 
And  this  o'erhanging  wood-top  nods 
Like  golden  helms  of  ilrowsy  gods. 
Methinks  that  now  I  '11  stretch  for  rest, 
With  eyelids  sloping  toward  the  west ; 
That,  through  their  half  transparencies,- 
The  rosy  radiance  passed  and  strained, 
Of  mote  and  vapor  duly  drained, 
I  may  believe,  in  hollow  bliss, 
■  My  rest  in  the  empyrean  is. 


SAUL. 


407 


Watch  thou  ;  and  when  upcomes  the  moon 

A-towards  her  turn  me  :  and,  then,  boon. 

Thyself  compose,  'neath  wavering  leaves. 

That  hang  these  branched,  majestic  eaves  : 

That  so,  with  self-imposed  deceit, 

Both,  in  this  halcyon  retreat, 

By  trance  possessed,  imagine  may 

We  couch  in  heaven's  night-argent  ray : 

For  fond  't  were  not  to  make  this  earth 

All  that  to  us  it  can  be  worth  ; 

Which  is  (from  out  the  major  driven) 

To  appear  to  us  a  minor  heaven. 

But  few  things  are  what  they  appear,  — 

The  smoothest  'neath  the  face  are  riven  ; 

And  'tis  as  safe  to  slumber  here 

As,  Zepho,  erst  it  was  in  heaven : 

So  here  I  lie,  since  it  doth  seem 

I  soon  shall  sleep,  perchance  shall  dream. 


i'  I 


f 


A  Voice  {trolling  merrily). 

I  'm  coming,  I  'm  coming  along  in  my  glee : 

I  'm  in  the  odor  of  sanctity  ; 

And  to  stay  therein  I  've  sought  each  bloom 

Whose  saintly  mouth  doth  vomit  perfume. 

A  holy,  holy,  holy  rent 

Mine  own  mouth  is,  that  thus  gives  vent : 

I  'm  purged  with  sun  and  washed  with  dew, 

And  girt  with  woodbine,  coming  to  you  ; 

Coming  to  you. 

Coming  to  you, 

Ha,  ha  1  ha,  ha  !  I  'm  coming  to  you. 


Zaph. 


What  cawinsr  rook  is  that  ? 


■I 


}  !.*| 


408  SA  UL. 

Zepho. 

I  '11  look,  sir.     Oh  ! 
It  is  a  spirit  that  you  know,  — 
Malzah,  that  fool,  that  carrion  crow. 

Zaph. 
Malzah  escaped  ?    Why,  then,  there 's  news. 

Zepho. 

He  doth  his  angel-form  abuse. 

Like  naught  in  hell,  like  naught  in  heaven, 

Nor  earth-born  ;  —  up  to  frolic  given, 

He  cometh  like  a  moving  grove, 

Covered  with  creepers  quaintly  wove  ; 

Half  like  an  ivy-covered  tower, 

And  partly  like  a  spreading  bower : 

'T  were  hard,  indeed,  to  find  a  name 

To  designate  aright  the  same  : 

A  whole  whose  parts  are  jessamine. 

Sweet-brier,  and  fragrant  eglantine. 

With  cedar  sprays  and  slips  of  fir. 

And  southern-wood  and  lavender. 

Upon  his  crown,  that  bold  he  rears, 

A  monstrous  heliotrope  appears  ; 

And  central  hung,  beneath  his  nose. 

An  odorous,  celestial  rose  ; 

While  lily-cups,  perhaps  filled  for  drouth, 

In  white  festoon  surround  his  mouth; 

And  buttercups  and  scarlet  bean 

Do  vallance,  like  pied  beard,  his  chijn. 

Upon  his  cheeks,  like  beds  of  bloom, 

Are  mignonette  and  marjoram  ; 

And  balsam  precious,  from  his  ears 

Protruding,  bunched  profuse  appears. 


SAUL. 


409 


Likcv/ise  a  zone  around  him  hung 
Of  various  berries  quaintly  strung, 
And  rambling,  tcndrilled,  fragrant  pea 
Around  his  rambling  logs  I  see ; 
And  he,  as  hitherward  he  hurries, 
Fool's-parsley  'tween  his  fingers  carries. 
While,  still  to  keep  the  whole  together. 
He  has  procured  the  woodbind's  tether. 
And,  as  i'  the  midst,  his  eyes  appear,  — 
They  wear  a  wild  and  jovial  leer : 
Most  different  he,  thus  pranked  around, 
A  green  buffoon,  than  when  I  found 
Him  Lately  looking  lean  and  bare, 
Save  covering  of  official  care, 
In  Gibeah  carked,  and  void  of  sense, 
Save  void  on  me  his  insolence. 

{Enter    Malzah,    tricked   out  grotesquely  luith  foliage  and 

Jlozoers, ) 

Zaph. 
Fellow,  how  now  ?  an  owlet's  eyes 
Would  see  through  that  thin,  green  disguise : 
Thou  'rt  Malzah  ;  and,  to  my  surprise 
And  pleasure,  com'st.     What  news  dost  bring, 
That  thus  I  heard  thee  gayly  sing  ? 

Malzah. 
I  've  long  been  sad  :  't  is  time  a  cock  should  crow 
When  morning  breaks.     I  do  not  say  I  sing, 
But  ever  and  anon  I  gushing  throw 
My  note,  hke  cuckoo's  on  an  eve  in  spring. 

Zaph. 

Rich  through  the  evening  air  we  heard  thy  voice 

Borne  nearer,  vassal.    Thou  hast  escaped  I'rom  Saul ;  — 

But  how  ? 

18 


1 

I-  M      • 

I 


Ell. 
1^ 


410 


SAC/L. 


MAI-ZAH. 

Out  of  a  melancholy  muse, — 
As  from  the  big,  oblivious  blank  o'  the  Past 
I  first  awoke  and  felt  that  I  was  Malzah,  — 
In  joy  I  woke,  as  if  from  out  a  dream, 
And  felt  that  I  was  liberated  ;  then 
Forthwith  came  hither,  past  the  Hebrew  camp ; 
Whence  Saul  this  day  unto  a  witch  hath  gone 
To  seek  advice,  since  God  to  him  gives  none. 

Zaph. 
'T  is  well :  ' ' 

He  shall  have  counsel  from  the  depth  of  hell. 

What  is  his  present  and  particular  plight  ? 

Malzah. 

A  piteous  one :  composed  of  doleful  cheer,  — 

That  last,  worst  state,  despair  combined  with  fear. 

For  the  Philistines  have  invaded  Israel 

In  greater  multitude  than  heretofore  ; 

And  conscience,  for  the  slaughter  of  Nob's  priests, 

Now  on  him  presses  with  forebodings  sore. 

I  fear  his  course  is  drawing  to  an  end. 

Zaph. 
I  thought  these  witches  were  beneath  his  ban. 

Malzail 

They  were  ;  —  but  who  on  prey  hi;  Lh  never  pounced, 
Which  once,  to  others,  dirty  ]h;  -pronounced  ? 
The  Israelite  is  famishing  for  knowledge. 

Zaph. 
His  host  encamps  on  Gilboa  ? 


SAUL.  4,1 

Malzah. 

No,  not  now ; 
But  in  the  fruitful  valley  of  Jczrcel. 

Zaph. 
At  once  from  Ian  1  and  sea  my  spirits  I  '11  call. 
My  flighty  Zepho,  lor  them  posting  go. 

Zepiio. 

I  '11  bring  them  to  you  in  a  trice  or  so. 

\yanishes. 
*  Zaph. 

Samuel  is  dead  ;  but  my  revenge  survives, 

And  will  while  Gloricl  in  triumph  thrives. 

So  let  me  all  my  energies  arouse 

To  thwart  the  side  that  ( iloricl  shall  espouse ; 

Whether  it  be  the  huge  Philistine  host. 

Or  Saul  to  drive  them  homeward  from  his  coast. 

May  Zepho  find  my  servants  easily  1 

So  swiftly  passes  Zepho  through  space'  field, 

He  looks  back  laughing  at  the  gash,  unhealed, 

Given  to  her  by  the  passing  of  his  form, 

Which  swifter  is  than  thought,  or  sunbeams  warm. 

.  Malzah. 

Methinks  he  wastes,  grows  leaner  and  more  bare. 
From  frequent  straining  through  the  sieve  o'  the  air. 

Zaph. 
We  learn  thou  lately  played'st  the  insolent  towards  him. 

Malzah. 
Sir,  Zepho  lately  came,  your  messenger 
To  me  at  Gibeah  :  —  most  ill-iuned  he  came  ; 
And  I,  preoccupied,  did  deem  him  merely 
Some  curious  truant ;  —  for,  upon  my  honor, 


.'  t 


l\ 


'- 


412 


SAUL. 


I  kne'v  him  not ;  —  so,  after  thinking  thus  : 
<*  Never  yet  genius  wrought  its  masterpiece, 
But  it  was  vexed  with  gazers,"  I  addressed  him 
Curtly,  and,  as  I  now  behcve,  in  jest ; 
Deeming  the  semblance  of  good-humor  best.  — 
Meseems  he 's  slow  in  gathering  your  servants. 

Zaph. 
They  're  nearing  ;  for  I  hear  their  roar, 
Like  billows  tumbling  to  the  shore. 

(^«/^rZEPHo  a«</M^  Demons.)  \  "  <f 

This  is  done  well.     None  can  more  prompt  than  you, 
When  you  desire  your  discipline  to  show. 
Now  take  with  me,  in  circles  high,  your  flight, 
To  drop  upon  Jezreel  when  drops  the  night ; 
There  to  avenge  (if  may)  the  wrong  that  fell 
On  us  at  Michmash  from  proud  Gloriel ; 
When,  to  assist  the  valiant  son  of  Saul, 
Beneath  the  ground  he  made  us  shake  and  crawl. 

\Exeunt^  soaring  through  the  top  of  the  forest. 

.     '        '  U  '     ,      , 

SCENE  VIII. 

Endor,  Outside  of  the  Witch's  house.  Time,  night. 
Enter  Saul  itt  plain  garments,  and  Two  Soldiers 
attending  him,  but  disguised  as  his  companions. 

Saul. 
By  the  description,  this  must  be  the  dwelling. 
It  stands  alone,  is  ample,  yet  a  hovel ; 
With  only  one  small  window,  that  can  scarcely    • 
Admit  sufficient  light,  even  at  noonday, 
To  chase  thence  darkness.     Doubtless  't  is  the  pluce  : 
It  seems  fit  habitation  for  dark  rites. 


SA  UL. 


413 


u. 


brest. 


light. 
[KRS 


;e : 


Decay  seems  to  possess  it,  and  around 
Mute  in  the  dimness  looms  dilapidation. 
Knock  thou,  and  make  inquiry  of  who  comes. 

{The  YiK^T  AiiE-sxixnT  knocks  gently.) 

She  comes  not.     Knock  again  ;  and  louder  this  time. 

{ The  Attendant  knocks  a  second  time. ) 

(Aside.)  Danger  hath  made  the  creature  cautious  ;  and 

as  I 
Seek,  in  the  darkness  of  my  present  plight, 
To  peer  through  her  skill's  medium,  and  learn 
What  were  the  best  that  I  should  do,  so  she, 
Perchance,  is,  from  the  darkness  of  her  dwelling, 
Noting  us  through  the  casement,  so  that  she 
May  know  if  to  admit  us.     Some  one  comes. 

(The  door  is  slo^vly  and  partially  opened  by  they^YXCW.,  7vho 
stands  timorously  xvithin,  with  her  hand  upon  the  latch. ) 

First  Attendant. 
Lives  here  the  Wisewoman  ? 

Witch. 

What  Wisewoman,  stranger  ? 
There  lives  a  woman  here  h  "h  poor  and  lonely. 

First  Attendant. 
And  is  she  now  a'on': ,  end  art  thou  she  ? 

Witch. 
I  am  the  onI>'  woman  dwelling  here.  — 
You  surely  ha>^^ :  /tut  hither  come  to  rob  m^ ! 
Alas,  what  is  .1  .;re  in  this  place  forlorn  ? 

First  Attendant. 

Art  thou  the  "V/itch,  and  art^  thou  now  alone  ? 
Tell  us,  for  we  are  seeking  to  consult  her.  •, 


kVI 


414 


SAUL. 


Witch. 

And  were  I  both,  pray  what  would  you  want  with  me  ? 
To  inquire  of  such  were  now  a  misdemeanor, 
Did  any  still  survive  beneath  Saul's  rigor. 
Witches  are  none  in  Israel  now  thou  knowest. 

Second  Attendant. 

Fear  not :  we  are  honest  men.     Art  thou  the  witch  ? 
For  we  are  told  that  hereabouts  there  dwells  one. 

Witch. 

Art  thou  not  mad  to  ask  me  such  a  question, 
When  such  are  now  not  to  be  found  in  Israel? 
Then  how  darest  use  that  dangerous  name  towardr^  me  ? 
Why  come  yc  laying  snares  for  a  lone  woman  t 

Second  Attendant. 
We  lay  no  snares  ;  but  art  thou  not  the  witch  ? 


What,  I  ? 


Witch. 

Second  Attendant. 

Yes,  thou  thyself.     Do  not  to  thee 
The  love-crossed  wights  and  pining  maids  repair, 
To  learn  their  fate,  or  purchase  from  thee  charms? 
Canst  thou  not  tell  where  missing  treasure  is  ? 
Dost  thou  not  prophesy  who  shall  grow  rich. 
Who  shall  have  fruitful  wives,  who  disobedient 
Children  ;  who  early  die,  who  live  to  see 
Four  generations  and  be  called  great-grandsire  ? 

Saul. 

Speak  fearlessly.     Art  thou  not  one  of  those, 

Who,  in  the  weird  sagacity  of  their  art, 

Foretell  which  course  shall  prosper  and  which  not ; 


SAUL. 


415 


i? 


What  critical  and  pregnant  enterprise 
Succeed,  and  what  result  in  black  disaster  ? 
Art  thou  not  one  of  those  proud  sorceresses 
Who  have  prevision,  and  the  power  to  summon 
Back  to  the  world  the  spirits  of  the  dead  ? 


le? 


Witch. 

The  wind  blows  cold :  come  iii. 

( They  go  in,  and  the  WiTCH  closes  the  door.) 

Enter  this  inner  room  ;  for  I  to  none 

Give  entertainment  in  the  outer  one, 

That  the  rude  winds  do  enter,  and,  for  aught 

I  know,  where  stands  now  at  the  door  a  wolf, 

Which  may  to-morrow  howl  among  the  hills 

That  I  to-night  was  hospitable  to  you. 

How  know  I  you  're  sincere  !     How  do  I  know 

But  that  you  come  to  pry,  and  see  if  I 

Be  she  who  here  (as  goes,  you  say,  report) 

Follows  the  witch's  now  illegal  art ! 

Ah,  I  suspect  you  ;  strongly  I  suspect  you  ! 

I  like  not  thee,  tall  stranger :  —  thou  'rt  a  spy, 

And  these  men  are  thy  witnesses.     Ah,  base 

And  cruel  witnesses ;  for  ye  know  well, 

:  'uU  well  ye  know  all  three,  what  Saul  hath  done, 

How  he  hath  put  to  death  all  female  kind 

Who  had  familiar  spirits,  also  male 

T  at  dared  commune  with  goblin,  or  foul  fiend, 

Spirit,  or  power  of  the  invisible  world, 

Till  not  a  wizard  is  left  in  all  the  land  ! 

Then  wherefore  come  ye  three  men  unto  me. 

As  though  I  were  to  conjurations  given  ?  . 

\Vhy  lay  a  snare  for  me,  that  ye  may  hale 

Ms  hence  to  execution  1 


4i6 


SAUL. 


^^ffi|S   i 

III 

^ 

'   ^n^' 

'if' 

M'< 

1  iw^j 

Saul. 
Peace.     I  swear  — 

Witch. 
"WTiat  dost  thou  swear  by  ? 

Saul. 

By  whate'er  thou  wilt :  — 
By  hell,  for  thou  'st  no  interest  in  heaven. 

Witch. 

How  much  ha     thou  ?     Swear  to  me  by  the  moon, 

That  is  the  witc  '  ■    •rshop  and  arcanum, 

From  whence  the-       -t  on  those  who  persecute  them 

All  woes  that  body  aiiU  that  mind  can  bear, 

Pain,  horror.     Swear,  then,  to  me  by  the  moon. 

Saul. 

I  will  not  swear  unto  thee  by  the  moon. 
But  by  the  moon's  Creator.     As  God  lives, 
There  shall  no  mischief  unto  thee  occur 
For  doing  what  I  bid  thee. 

Witch. 

Thou  hast  sworn. 

Saul. 
And  I  will  keep  mine  oath. 

Witch. 

I  tell  thee,  stranger, 
That  thou  hadst  better ;  for  I  shall  have  given 
To  me  thy  soul  in  endless  slavery. 
If  thou  prove  treacherous.     Remember :  and 
Now  say  what  I  must  do. 


1/ 


SAUL. 


4T7 


u 


Saul. 

Divine  to  me 
By  thy  familiar  spirit,  since  thou  hast  one, 
And  bring  up  him  whom  I  shall  name  to  thee. 
Begin  thine  incantations  ;  for  the  moments 
Fly,  and  I  've  far  to  go  and  much  to  do 
Or  ere  the  dawn. 

Witch. 

Whom  wouldst  thou  I  should  show  thee  ? 


Show  to  me  Samuel. 


Saul. 


Witch. 

Samuel !     Thinkest  thou 
That  he  'd  appear  for  such  as  thou  art }     No, 
He  would  not  come  for  any  less  than  Saul :  — 
No,  nor  for  him  ;  for  he  is  now  abandoned, 
And  we  whom  he  tormented  are  revenged. 
Long  have  they  said  that  God  has  left  him.  —  Well, 
Others  have  lost  their  souls  beyond  redemption. 
They  say  he  has  a  demon  —  so  have  others  — 
But  come,  I  '11  disappoint  thee  ;  for,  remember, 
Samuel  will  not  be  roused  for  thee,  although 
I  '11  knock  with  thunder  at  his  resting-place. 
And  send  my  piercing  Spirit  (who,  like  frost, 
Can  penetrate  a  rocky  sepulchre) 
To  project  molten  lightning  through  his  bones. 
Prostrate  yourselves ;  nor,  till  I  bid  you,  look 
At  what  shall  lie  before  you  soon  agape. 
The  yawn  of  Hades,  the  dark  mouth  of  hell. 
(Saul  and  his  companions  fall  prostrate,) 

Ha  hee  !  ha  hee !  ho  1    Adramuel, 
Adramuel,  Adramuel,  thee  show, 


i8< 


AA 


4i8 


SA  UL. 


I 

f. 


i, 
I, 

I  1 


From  sunny  height  or  gloom  below  ! 

Adramuel,  why  is  it  so  ? 

Dost  thou  not  thy  mistress  know  ? 

{A  strange  sound  heard.     Appear  AnRX^lUEL.) 

O  my  sweet  slave,  O  my  dear  friend  and  master, 
Still,  still  so  faithful  to  me !     Now  go  faster 
Than  do  the  fabulous  coursers  of  the  wind. 
To  Raraah,  or  to  Hades,  and  bring  Samuel. 

[Adramuel  vanishes. 
{Aside.)     Whither  would  not  Adramuel  go  ?    Brave 

spirit ! 
If  I  command  him,  he  would  wind  his  way 
Into  the  presence  of  the  sons  of  God, 
And  there,  T'\'-'ough  in  vain,  demand  the  prophet. 
It  cannot  be  ;  for  Samuel  may  not  come 
From  Abrali.^i:  's  -A^vn^.     I  mock  my  mighty  demon. 
But  whence  this  tremor  creeping  through  my  frame  ? 
Ah,  I  am  strangely  warped  !     I  have  a  loom 
That  he  I  've  sent  for  will  arise  and  come. 
Be  still,  ye  tottering  limbs.     Adramuel  hastes  ;  — 

,,    {Listening.) 

Adramuel  nearer  comes.     I  hear  a  mourning, 

As  if  he  bore  within  his  arms 

A  soul  that  came  unwilling  to  my  charms. 

{Bending forward  as  if  to  see  something.) 

Roll,  roll  away,  thou  Stygian  smoke, 

And  let  me  into  the  abysm  look.     {Shrieks.) 

{Crying  with  a  loud  voice. ) 
Ah,  why  hast  thou  deceived  me  ?  —  Thou  art  Saul. 


Calm  thee. 


Saul. 
What  hast  thou  seen  ? 


SAUL. 


419 


WiTcn. 

O  gods  ascending. 

Angels  I  saw  or  gods  —  I  know  not  which  — 

Out  of  the  earth  ascending,  and  another 

Borne  up  amidst  them  careful. 

Saul. 
.  Of  what  form  ? 

Witch. 

An  old  man,  and  upcovered  with  a  mantle. 

Saul  {aside). 

'T  is  Samuel  here  again  ! 

(Saul  bows  his  face  to  t/ie  ground,  and  the  ghost  of  Samuel 

rises. ) 

Ghost  {inaudible  except  to  Saul). 

Unhappy  King,  why  hast  thou  summoned  me, 

Out  of  the  tranquil  ecstasy  of  death  ?  — 

Why  hast  thou  troubled  me  to  bring  me  hither  ? 

Saul. 

I  am  in  great  distress,  for  the  Philistines 

Again  make  war  against  me,  and  their  hosts 

Invade  my  kingdom  ;  whilst  the  Lord  hath  left  me, 

And  answers  me  no  more  by  dreams  or  prophets. 

Neither  by  Urim's  light  nor  kindling  Thummim's  : 

Therefore  I  've  called  on  thee  that  thou  mayest  show 

me 

What  I  shall  do. 

Ghost. 

Forsaken  by  Jehovah, 
Why  hast  thou  thus  resorted  unto  me  ? 
God  now  performs  that  which,  by  me,  he  promised 
To  David,  and  now  ends  indeed  thy  reign  ; 


420 


SAUL. 


) 
i^'\ 


\. . 


'Vl'^V 


It, 


1 


■I 


The  kingdom  bein<,f  no  longer  thine  but  David's, 

Because  thou  hast  been  disobedient, 

Nor  didst  God's  vengeance  upon  Amalek. 

Therefore  God  leaveth  thee  this  hour  in  darkness. — 

Yet,  not  obedient  to  charm  or  spell. 

Wherewith  thou  wickedly  hast  sought  to  break 

My  slumbers,  come  I  from  my  secret  place, 

To  answer  thqe.     Thou  sorceress-seeking  King, 

God  shall  deliver  thee,  and  all  thy  host, 

Into  the  power  of  the  Philistines.     Go  ; 

Thou  and  thy  sons  shall  be  with  me  to-morrow. 

\^K\^\.  faints  away,  and  the  Ghost  and  all  supo-natural 
phenomena  disappear  with  a  dull  sound. 

Second  Attendant. 

'T  is  thunder,  and  it  shakes  to  its  foundations 

This  crazy  dwelling.     Lo,  the  witch's  form 

Doth  tremble  too,  and  is  as  pale  as  moonlight, 

As,  like  to  a  detected  culprit,  there  she 

Stands  with  clasped  hands,  aghast  at  her  own  doing. 

First  Attendant.  • 

Now  may  I  ne'er  again  assist  at  magic ! 

Second  Attendant. 

Nor  I.     This  spectral  visit  hath  surpassed. 
In  mighty  horror,  all  my  previous 
Imaginations  of  another  world. 
The  King  has  swooned. 

First  Attendant. 

Quick  ;  let  us  take  him  up. 
( They  raise  Saul.  ) . 
This  was  an  impious  act !    What  hast  thou  done,  hag  ? 


UIMWi 


SAUL.  421 

Witch. 

That  which  the  King  commanded  me.     See  to  him. 

First  Attendant. 

Alt'.iough  I  apprehend  not  all  he  knows, 
I  know  it  must  be  awful ;  since  the  flash 
Of  that  pale  witch's  shriek  appalled  me,  and 
The  crack  of  her  few  words  :    O  then,  what  must 
Unto  his  heart  have  been  the  perfect  pedl !  ' 

He  seems  as  dying :  set  him  on  the  bed. 

Second  Attendant. 
What  hath  the  vision  told  him,  for  thou  knowest .'' 

Witch. 

Ask  not,  but  help  to  raise  him.     This  I  know, 
That  he  will  not  die  here  :  he  '11  rally  yet. 

Second  Attendant. 
How  knowest  thou  that .? 

First  Attendant. 

Mark  him  !  —  I  do  believe 
That  he  will  not  go  hence  a  living  man. 
O,  I  am  sick  myself,  —  and  so  art  thou  ;  — 
I  shudder  even  to  the  very  marrow  1  * 

Second  Attendant. 
He  lives  ;  but,  O  how  corpse-like  1 

First  Attendant. 

We  are  all  four 
As  pale  as  winding-sheets :  my  own  voice  sounds, 
Methinks,  sepulchral. —  Man,  express  thy  horror. 
Thou  seest  not  thyself:  thine  eyeballs  roll, 


-!  'L 


4aa 


SAUL. 


Pd 


H 
1^ 


As  if  from  some  great  under-agitation, 

Which  yet  sends  no  true  billow-swell  of  phrase 

Up  to  thy  white-shore  lips.     Mine  own  feel  stiffening, 

As  if  with  mortal  chillness.     See  that  creature, 

How  her  teeth  chatter !    Witch,  use  thy  croaking  tongue, 

And  tell  the  worst  that  thou  hast  seen  and  heard. 

Witch. 

Peace  ;  for  the  King  returns  unto  himself. 
{Castinc;;  herself  at  Skvl's  feet) 
Hear  me,  your  Majesty.     I  have  obeyed  you, 
And  at  your  instance  put  my  life  in  peril ; 
Then  do  not  punish  me  for  what  you  've  seen. 
Forgive  my  lying  boast  against  you  ;  and 
Permit  me  (in  the  safety  of  your  oath. 
Wherein  you  said  no  harm  should  happen  to  me) 
To  set  some  food  before  your  Majesty, 
That  you  may  gather  vigor  to  depart, 
Since  you  declared  that  you  had  far  to  go 
And  much  to  do  before  the  morrow  dawned. 

Second  Attendant. 
Ay,  thou  hast  done  thy  mischief,  witch  ;  and  now  — 


Hist,  hist ! 


First  Attendant. 


Saul. 


What  hour  is  it  ?     Have  I  slept  long  ?     No,  no, 
I  cannot  eat ;  why  should  1}    I  '11  take  nothing. 

First  Attendant. 

We  pray  you  do.    Your  Majesty  cannot  return 

Still  fasting  ;  and  there  is  no  time  for  rest 

If  you  would  reach  Jezreel  before  the  morning. 


SAUL. 


423 


Saul. 

I  cannot  eat :  I  loathe  both  food  and  life, 
(/i?  the  Witch.)     He  came  up  like  an  old  man,  didst 
thou  say  ? 

Witch. 

I  did,  O  King  ;  —  but  bid  me  cook  some  food. 

Saul. 

Wouldst  cook  food  for  the  dead  ?  — 

What  were  they  broiling  in  that  hideous  smoke?  ^ 

Second  Attendant. 

He  is  the  semblance  of  despair  and  horror ! 

He  has  beheld  much  more  than  we  have  done, 

Or  than  we  dream  of     See,  he  sinks  apace  : 

Urge  him  to  eat,  or  he  will  never  rise 

Up  living. 

First  Attendant.  , 

Take  some  food,  we  pray,  my  liege ; 
Your  Majesty,  be  counselled.    We  oft  put 
Things  disagreeable  unto  our  mouths. 
Which  things  we  do  call  medicines,  as  they  are  ; 
So  be  you  now  persuaded  to  take  food. 
However  much  in  taking  you  may  loathe  it, 
And  think  't  is  medicine,  for  't  will  so  prove  to  you. 


I  will  not 


Saul. 
I  'm  past  cure. 


Second  Attendant. 

His  Majesty 
Knows  that  the  army  will  require  his  presence. 


Saul. 
Bring  me  some  food,  woman,  quickly. 


{Exit  Witch. 


k 


T.     '3 


w% 


^--r 


424 


SAC'L. 


Ere  tlic  morn 
Shall  tint  the  orient  with  the  soldier's  color, 
We  must  be  at  the  camp.     What  watch  is  it  ?  — 
Bring  the  food  quickly.     Hath  the  moon  yet  risen  ? 
Look  out  and  tell  me  ;  look  out  at  the  window. 

(  T/it'  First  Attendant  A'cX-.r  oitf  al  the  -oiii(L^~u<. ) 
{Aside)  The  last  outlook  has  come,  and  drear  it  is  ! 
P'ar  off  the  camp,  far  off  seems  morn,  to  me, 
Whose  tent  is  pitched  'neath  everlasting  darkness. — 
{Aloud).  Well,  what 's  the  moon  a-doing  ? 


First  Attendant. 

With  visionary  dawn  she  is  advancing 
Unto  the  whitenlug  fiontier  of  the  east. 


Your  Majesty, 


Saul. 

And  yet  she  rises  late  to-night :  she  's  old. 

We  must  begone,  we  must  begone.     Poor  moon, 

She  is  old,  and  so  am  I  !  —  Why  comes  not  food  "i 

Bring  food  here  with  despatch  ;  or  the  moon  up  heaven 

Will,  with  her  ancient,  silver  feet,  be  treading 

Ere  we  upon  our  road.     How  old  is  now 

The  moon  ? 

Second  Attendant. 
My  liege,  in  her  last  quarter. 


Saul. 


Then 


I  shall  behold  her  this  last  time  when  she  's 
An  emblem  of  myself.     Yet  she  '11  return 
And  rule  the  night ;  but  I  shall  from  my  shade 
Come  up  no  more  !  —  Say,  is  the  food  a-coming  ? 
I  have  heard  tell  of  culprits  who  have  ravened 


SAUL. 


425 


n 


sty, 


ven 


Upon  the  margin  of  their  execution, 
And  I  now  feel  an  hungered.  —  Comrades,  comrades, 
You  'II  butchers  be  to-morrow,  and  can  fatten  you. 
To-morrow  —  O,  come  thou  dreadful  morrow  ! 


Mark. 


First  Attendant  {to  his  companion). 

Second  Attendant. 
His  mind  is  wandering. 

First  Attendant. 

I  know  not  that. 
He  has  been  warned  of  some  dire  mischief  coming. 

Second  Attendant. 

And  yet  I  'm  sure  he  wanders.  —  O  see,  see. 
How  thought-fixed  are  his  eyes,  rigid  his  muscles ! 
His  soul  is  toward  the  camp :  it  is  i   >t  here. 
He  wanders  homeward,  like  a  poor  lost  creature 
That  through  foul  roads  still  drags  its  mired  limbs. 
Your  Majesty,  lie  down,  and  rest  whilst  waiting. 
The  witch  is  making  haste  :  I  hear  her  busy. 

•  Saul. 

No,  no,  not  yet :   there  '11  be  a  long  lie  down 

Anon.    Yes,  presently  there  '11  be  a  sleep 

With  time  enough  to  dream  in.     {Aside.)  O,  how  all 

Like  to  a  dream  seems  my  career  now  closing  ! 

How  like  a  troubled  April  day  it  seems  ! 

How  like  a  famine-smit,  disastrous  year  !  — 

{Aloud)  Will  that  foul  witch  be  long  ? 

Second  Attendant. 

Your  Majesty,  no. 


>\f::. 


426 


SA  UL, 

Saul, 
{Aside.)    As  round  some  spent,  delirious 


'T  is  well, 
one, 
Fallen,  at  last,  asleep,  the  hand  of  friendship 
Draws  the  thin  Curtains,  who  shall  draw  around 
My  memory  apologetic  shade  ? 
For  Ahinoam  is  dead ;  and  Jonathan, 
And  Melchi-shuah,  and  Abinadab, 
Shall  go  to  morrow  with  me,  and  the  rest 
Are  all  too  young.     Yet  Abner  may  remain 
And  vindicate  me  somewhat.    But  if  he. 
Too,  die  (for  David  will  not  curb  the  priesthood), 
Then  I  must  leave  a  blotted  name  behind. 
And  enemies  whose  pens  shall  slander  me 
On  biding  parchment.     No,  not  slander,  surely  : 
I  would  not  abdicate.    O  love  of  rule. 
For  thee  I  may  have  damned  my  soul  to  hell, 
Murdering  for  thee  the  sacred  priests  of  heaven ! 
It  was  the  fiend,  —  yet  will  the  fiend  for  't  suffer  ? 
Shall  I  not  be  beneath  with  him  to-morrow  ?  — 
How  now .''    The  food,  the  food  ! 

{Enter  the  Witch  with  viands. ) 

First  Attends*  nt. 

My  liege,  it  comes. 

Saul. 
Are  these  your  sorcerer's  victuals  ? 

Witch. 

Your  Majesty, 

Although  these  hands  of  mine  prepared  them,  they 

Are  pure  as  any  that,  by  hands  of  priests, 

E'er  did  on  altar  smoke  in  holy  rites. 


"»■ 


SCT-! 


SAUL. 


427 


Saul. 

The  priests  !  the  priests  !  —  't  was  Doeg's  hands,  not 

mine  : 
Mine  are  not  red  with  Aaron's  blood.     See,  see  ! 
Who  comes  before  me  yonder,  clothed  in  blood  ? 
Away,  old  man,  so  sad  and  terrible  ;  — 
Away,  Ahimelech,  I  slew  thee  not !  — 
Nor  these,  —  nor  these,  thy  sons,  a  ghastly  train. 
Nay,  fix  not  here  your  dull,  accusing  eyes. 
Your  stiff  tongues  move  not,  your  white  lips  are  dumb ; 
You  give  no  word  unto  the  ambient  air ; 
You  see  no  figure  of  surrounding  things  ; 
But  are  as  stony,  carven  effigies. 
Ah,  do  you  point  me  to  your  carven  limbs, 
That  as  I  gaze  upon  them  turn  to  snakes  ? 
Out,  vipers,  scorpions,  and  ye  writhing  dragons  ! 
Hydras,  wag  not  your  heads  at  me,  nor  roll 
At  me  your  fiery  eyes,  nor  shake  your  stings. 
Avaunt  !  away  with  you,  ye  are  not  men  ; 
Nor  women,  children,  babes,  nor  embryons 
Of  aaght  that  's  human.    {To  the  Attenda,iis^   Why, 

how  now  1   Fall  on  ; 
From  ceremony  I  absolve  you  both. 
Nay,  nay ;  no  more  request  me  to  partake. 
( The  tnen  begin  to  cat. ) 

{Aside.)  Why  should  a  dead  man  eat !  —  O  that  the 

dead 
Could  come  again  and  live  !  —  that  Aaron's  sons. 
While  I  in  death  put  off  my  royal  robes, 
Revived,  could  fill  again  their  sacred  vestments  ! 
Cannot  the  spirit  live  again  in  clay. 
E'en  as  old  tenants  to  old  homes  return  ?  — 
Return  to  life,  ye  murdered  priestly  shades  ; 
Live  in  the  sanctuaries  of  your  ancient  forms  ! 


428 


SA  UL. 


0  Life,  how  delicate  a  thing  thou  art, 
Crushed  with  the  feathery  edge  of  n.  thin  blade  ! 
Frail  !  —  why  wert  thou  not  made  inviolable  ? 
Why  art  thou  irrecoverable  as  frail  ? 

Thou,  noblest  guest,  art  all  as  much  exposed 
To  foul  ejectment  from  the  flesh  as  is 
The  spider  from  its  web  by  maiden's  broom. 
Yea,  with  a  little  wielded  iron,  any 
Can  drive  thee  forth  from  thy  recesses'  walls, 
Which  thou  wilt  not  repair  ;  for  thou,  weak  foo' 
At  voice  of  death,  from  thine  old  banquet-room 
Start'st  like  a  haughty  noble  that,  in  huff. 
Leaves  his  convives,  and  will  return  no  more. 
Why  should  I  cherish  thee,  why  feed  thee  now  ! 
Yet  I,  a  breathing  corse,  must  mumble,  —  I, 
A  shadow,  raise  my  sunken,  phantom  maw 
With  the  refection  of  this  solid  world. 

{Rising,  after  having  eaten  a  little.^ 

Now  let  us  go.     Here,  take  these  shekels,  woman : 

1  pay  thee  for  the  evil  thou  hast  shown  me. 
Live  and  repent  of  thy  black  arts,  ere  death 

Shall  send  thee  where  there  may  not  be  a  whitening. 
{Aside.)    She  may  still  live,  be  bleached  with  pious 

sighs. 
And  showers  of  tears,  and  dews  of  holy  deeds ; 
But  I  must  due,  with  foul  sins  on  my  head, 
Betake  me  to  the  region  of  the  dead. 
{Aloud.)  Lead,  and  unbar  the  door; — and  see  thou 

sellest 
Amulets  no  more  while  on  the  earth  thou  dwellest. 
What  I  have  given  thee  will  thy  ivants  supply. 
Amend  thy  life  ;  for  thou,  too,  soon  shalt  die. 

[Exeunt. 


ifWM 


SAUL. 


SCENE    IX. 


429 


)US 


lou 


iit. 


Amidst  the  Hebrew  camp.     Time,  night. 

Jonathan  {coming  out  of  a  tent). 

Why  should  I  wake  within  my  tent  ?  for  darkness 
Is  on  my  soul  as  well  as  on  the  soil. 
I  cannot  sleep  ;  and  both  my  brothers  toss 
Upon  their  truckle-beds,  and  moan  and  mutter. 
There  's  evil  near  us  ;  either  of  defeat 
Or  death  to  one  or  more  of  mine  own  race. 
Strange  that  my  father  should  be  absent  now  ! 

{Enter  Abner.) 


Who 's  there  ? 


Abner. 
A  friend. 


Jonathan. 

'T  is  hke  the  voice  of  Abner. 

Abner. 

Not  like  it,  but  the  same.     Thou  'rt  Jonathan, 
And  like  me  wanderest  ghostlike,  ill  at  ease, 

Jonathan. 

Abner,  there  lies  across  my  path  a  shade 
That  I  must  pass  to-morrow  ;  let  it  be 
Even  the  billows  black  of  death's  deep  gulf, 
Or  a  mere  frowning  shallow  of  a  hazard. 

Abner. 

To-morrow  seems  a  space  that  I  must  clear, 
Swept  by  a  thick,  continual  shower  of  darts. 
And  which  I  shall  not  cross  without  many  wounds. 


i!  !■ 


430 


SAUL. 


Jonathan. 

But  that  my  father  hath  forbidden  thee, 
I  would  command  thee  to  inform  me  where 
He  is  this  hour. 

Abner. 

Let  us  his  narrow  gap 
Of  absence  fill  with  our  sufficient  presence. 
Back  to  our  tents.     Good  night. 


{Exit. 


Jonathan. 

Through  this  thick  gloom, 
And  th'  mask  of  my  brave  kinsman's  countenance, 
I  saw  a  lurking  grief.     Where  is  my  sire  ? 
Where  he  is  flies  despair.     Saul  —  father  —  come  ! 
Why  art  thou  absent  on  the  eve  of  battle  "i 
Come,  sire,  come,  morrow,  though  thou  dark  dost  loom  ! 
Whate'er  it  be,  't  is  Heaven  shall  send  the  doom  :  — 
Heaven  send  the  dawn  ;  soon  let  the  trumpet's  bray, 
All  cheerily  blowing,  reawaken  day. 

.  -      (Disappears  among  the  tents. ) 


SCENE   X. 

The  Hebrew  camp  in  the  valley  of  yezreel.  Time,  morning. 
£nter  Savl  and  Ab^er,  followed  by  Jonathan,  Abina- 
DAB,  and  Melchi-shuah. 

Saul. 

Ask  me  no  more  to  tell  thee  what  the  witch  said. 
{Aside.)  I  '11  hide  it  to  the  last ;  and  none  shall  learn, 
Out  of  my  mouth,  that  I  am  dead  while  living. 


T 


=>R^-'jfc 


\ 


SA  UL. 


43  « 


*.xU, 


3m, 


m! 


K^- 


{Aloud.)  Come  hither,  sons.  {Aside.)  O,  now  what  sh.ili 

I  say? 
{Aloud.)  This  is  our  latest  field  ;  and  should  it  prove 
Our  last  one  also  (and  it  such  may  be), 
Then  let  it  be  our  noblest.     Go,  dear  sons, 
In  this  dark  hour  shine  forth  in  dazzling  deeds. 
Striking,  from  the  flinty  courage  of  your  foes, 
Bright,  everlasting  honor.     Jonathan, 
Forget  not  what  thou  heretofore  hast  done. 
And  let  thy  star  this  day  become  a  sun. 
Away  now  to  your  posts. 

[Exeunt  Jonathan,  Abinadab,  and  Melchi-shuaii. 

{Aside.)  Darkness  and  death  !  — 

But  go,  ye  lights  of  Saul ;  be  quenched,  be  quenched  ! 

0  my  poor  sons,  my  sons,  ye  die  for  me  1 

For  your  mad  father's  follies  you  're  destroyed ! 

[A  trumpet  sounds. ) 
Now,  hke  a  charger  at  the  trumpet's  voice. 
Now  let  me  rush  into  this  hopeless  field. 
And  struggle  till  I  perish.  —  O,  but  ye^ 
My  sons,  shall  ye  go  too  ?     Shall  ye,  too,  perish  ?  — 

1  will  not  send  my  children  to  their  death ! 
I  will  recall  them.  —  O,  but  to  what  end 
Shall  I  recall  them  ?  has  not  Samuel  said, 
To-day  they  march  with  me  unto  the  dead  ? 

O,  thither  march,  then,  sons.  —  O  sons,  forgive  me, 
Who  utter  toward  you  such  unnatural  words !  — 
Not  mine  but  heaven's.     O  hell,  upbraid  me  not, 
Nor,  loathing,  spit  upon  me  thy  fierce  scorn, 
When,  like  a  triple-offspring  murderer, 
I  enter  thee.     O  hell,  I  come,  I  come  : 
I  feel  the  dreadful  drawing  of  my  doom. 
O  monstrous  doom !  O  transformation  dread  ! 
How  am  I  changed !  —  how  am  I  turned,  at  last, 


.JiM 


/■ 


432 


SAUL. 


W: 


Pi/ 


Into  a  monster  at  itself  aghast ! 

0  wretched  children  !     O  more  wretched  sire  !  — 
Would  that  I  might  this  moment  here  expire ! 

Abner. 
What  can  this  strange  commotion  in  him  mean  ? 

Saul. 

See  there  how  Abner  stands 
With  wondering  visage  and  with  slackening  hands  !  • 
Abner,  away,  and  quickly  form  the  field.  — 
Why  should  he  watch  me  to  my  passion  yield  ? 

Abner. 
O,  sad  this  sight  to  these  astonished  eyes  I 
{^Another  trumpet  sounds.) 

Saul. 

Again  the  clarion  to  the  battle  cries. 

(71?  Abner.)    Farewell  to  thee.  —  But  understand  me 

right : 
Do  thou  fare  well,  coz,  in  the  coming  fight. 

Abner  {aside). 

1  'm  loath  to  leave  him,  but  it  must  be  so  : 
For  never,  since  I  knew  him,  have  I  seen 
Him  wearing  such  a  strange,  distracted  mien. 


Saul. 

All  have  gone  from  me  now  except  despair  ; 
And  my  last,  lingering  relics  of  affection,  — 
And  now  let  them  begone.     O,  break,  sad  heart ! 
Not  those  who  soon  shall  die  with  me,  but  those 
I  leave  behind,  shall  shake  my  manhood  most,  — 
My  orphaned  daughters,  and  my  youngest  born  ; 


{Exit. 


SA  UL. 

For  the  rest,  we  are  passing  unto  one  dark  goal. 
{After  %ueeping  awhile  in  silence. ) 

Now  let  me  scorn  all  further  tenderness  ; 
And  keep  my  heart  as  obdurate  as  the  hills, 
That  have  endured  the  assault  of  every  tempest 
Poured  on  them  from  the  founding  of  the  world. 
{Another  trumpet  sounds.) 

Ay,  blow  thy  fill,  thou  trump  of  martial  breath. 
Come  war,  come  ruin,  come,  relentless  death ! 


433 


\E.\it. 


SCENE   XI. 


Between  Jezreel  and  Gilboa.  A  great  noise  and  uproar  of 
the  battle.  Enter  Zaph  and  his  band  of  Demons,  includ- 
ing Malzah. 

Zaph. 

It  is  in  vain  ;  for  Gloriel  and  his  troop, 
Where'er  we  move,  impenetrably  standing 
Between  ourselves  and  the  Philistine  host,   " 
Hinder  our  succoring  of  the  Hebrew  king. 
Wheel  off,  then  ;  though  our  reasonable  hate 
Shall  yet  be  glutted,  in  the  teeth  of  fate. 

\Exeunt,  and  the  Hebrew  Army/(W5',  retreating. 
{Enter  Saul.  ) 

Saul. 

Drive  back  our  flying  cowards  on  the  foe  I  — 
But  will  the  blast  be  stayed  by  its  own  howls  ? 
The  doom  on  me  weighs  also  on  mine  army. 
Which,  whilst  it  fiercely  combats,  flees  before 
The  slaughtering  Philistines.     But  Gilboa 


19 


BB 


434 


SAUL. 


Again  shall  see  me  on  it  standing  firm  ; 

For  they  shall  not  hereafter  say  of  me 

That  I  was  slain  in  ignominious  flight. 

O,  had  I  been  allowed  to  win  this  field, 

Though,  by  its  last  expended  arrow,  doomed 

To  fall  and  finish  thereon  my  career, 

I  had  died  happy  I  for  I  'm  old  though  strong, 

Wearied,  although  not  spent.     But  this  may  not ; 

And  I  must  hence,  since  the  pursuit  grows  hot. 


Gilboa. 


{Exit, 


SCENE   XII. 

77ie  sound  of  the  battle  heard  faintly.     Enter  Abner 
and  some  SoldiePvS  in  haste  and  disorder. 


Abner. 
Where  is  the  King  ? 

Go  urge  him  from  the  field,  that  fast  is  clearing  ; 
But  tell  him  not  his  three  brave  sons  are  killed. 

[Exeunt  Soldiers. 
Alas,  alas,  alas  1  now  think  I  he 
Foreknew  their  fate  at  parting  !    O,  the  knell 
Appears  now  sounded  over  Israel ! 

[Exit,  and  Saul  enters  mortally  wounded  and  sinks  upon 
the  ground. 

Saul. 

Now  let  me  die,  for  I  indeed  was  slain 

With  my  three  sons.     Where  are  ye,  sons  ?    O,  let  me 

Find  ye,  that  I  may  perish  with  you  ;  dying, 

Cover  you  with  my  form,  as  doth  the  fowl 

Her  chickens !    O  Phihstia,  PhiUstia, 

Thou  now  art  compensated,  —  now  art  growing 


SAUL. 


435 


Rich  with  this  crimson,  hot,  and  mohen  tide ; 
That  waits  not  patient  to  be  coined  in  drops, 
But  rushes,  in  an  ingot-forming  stream. 
Out  of  the  mine  and  mintage  of  my  heart  1 

0  my  three  poor  dead  sons,  where  are  you  ?    Ye 
Have  gone  before  me  into  the  hereafter 

Upon  such  innocency-flighted  steps. 
That  I,  with  feet  cumbered  with  clots  of  gore. 
Shall  lose  of  you  all  glimpse,  and  then  my  soul 
Shall  drop  to  the  abyss.     Gush  faster,  blood. 
And  gallop  with  my  soul  towards  Hades  swift, 
That  yawns  obscure. 

{,A  dull  sound  in  the  distance.     Saul  rises  somewhat^  but  falls 
again  upon  the  ground.) 

It  is  the  enemy's  horse  ! 

{Enter  Saul's  Armor-Bearer.) 

Armor- Bearer. 
Rise,  or  the  foe  will  be  upon  my  liege  ! 

Saul. 

1  cannot,  boy  ;  for  I  am  dying  fast :  — 
And  yet  not  fast  enough,  it  seems  ;  so  draw 
Forthwith  thy  sword  and  with  it  run  me  through. 
Lest  those  uncircumcised  arrive,  to  slay, 

And  afterwards  abuse  me. 

Armor-Bearer. 

O  no,  no : 
I  dare  not  take  away  your  royal  life  ! 

Saul. 

Why  shouldst  thou  fear  to  take  what  I  would  give  ? 
Dispatch  me  quick :  the  enemy  are  here. 


!l 


43  6 


SAUL, 


Armor-Bearek. 

I  dare  not  take  away  your  Majesty's  life. 
I  cannot  do  it ;  nay,  I  cannot  do  it. 

Saul. 

Failed  by  a  friend  at  last ! 

( Taking  a  sword  that  lies  on  the  ground  near  him. ) 

Ah,  here  is  one 
Of  that  stern  sort  that  nevei  yet  failed  Saul. 

{Having  risen  with  a  great  effort. ) 

Sword,  enter,  and  drive  out  my  troubled  spirit ! 

{Falls  on  the  sword^  and  expires,) 

Armor-Bearer. 

Now  what  remains  for  me  except  to  follow  ! 

{Also  falls  on  his  sword.) 

{The  Philistine  Cavalry  sweep  across  the  scene,  and 
carrjy  off  the  corpse  of  Saul. 


THE     END. 


\-\ 


Cambridge  :  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  and  Company. 


REVIEW   OF  TEE  FIRST   EDITION  OF 


From  the  North  British  Review  for  August,  18r)8. 

Op  "  Saul :  a  Drama,  in  Three  Parts,"  published  anony- 
mously at  Montreal,  we  have  before  us  j)erhaps  the  only  Qoyy 
which  has  crossed  the  Atlantic.  At  all  events  we  have  heard 
of  no  other,  as  it  is  probable  we  should  have  done,  tbroujjh 
some  public  or  private  notice,  seeiuf;  that  tlic  work  is  indubit- 
ably one  of  the  most  remarkable  English  poems  ever  written 
out  of  Great  Britain.  This  copy  was  given  to  the  writer  of 
the  present  article  by  Mr.  Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  to  whose  rec- 
ommendation of  this,  to  him  and  to  us,  unknown  Canadian 
poet  our  readers  and  English  literature  generally  are  beholden 
for  their  first  introduction  to  a  most  curious  work.  "  Saul  " 
is  in  three  parts,  each  of  five  acts,  and  altogether  about  ten 
thousand  lines  long.  It  is  the  greatest  subject,  in  the  whole 
range  of  history,  for  a  drama,  has  been  treated  with  a  poetical 
power  and  a  depth  of  psychological  knowledge  which  are 
often  quite  startling,  though,  we  may  say.  Inevitably,  below 
the  mark  of  the  subject-matter,  which  is  too  great  to  be  done 
full  justice  to,  in  any  but  the  word?  in  which  the  original 
history  is  related. 

•  •  •  •  • 

The  author  proves  that  he  knows  the  Bible  and  human 
nature.  Shakespeare  he  also  knows  far  better  than  most 
men  know  him ;  for  he  has  discerned  and  adopted  his  meth- 
od as  no  other  dramatist  has  done.  He  takes  not  virtue 
and  morality,  and  their  opposites  geueral/y,  as  other  dram- 
atists do,  but  these  under  the  single  aspect  of  their  de- 
pendence upon  spiritual  injlucnces,  of  whatever  kind  :  the 
direct  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit ;   and  the  influence  of 


REVIEW  OJ-    TJJE   IJRST  EDJJ'JON. 


good  8i»iriti ;  nnd  of  the  i)rin(ii)iilitie.s  nnd  powers  of  dnrk- 
ness ;  mid  even  tlio  mysterious  influeucos  of  music,  tlie  wcatlKir, 
etc.,  upon  the  monil  stntc;  of  tlic  soul.  Like  most  f)f  Shiiko- 
sjKiaro's  pliiys,  thin  dnimii  has  the  appcanuicdol  bein;^  .stran;^ely 
chaotic.  There  are  liumlrcds  of  ])assa^es  for  the  existence  of 
which  wo  cannot  account  until  the  moral  dew  is  found,  nnd  it 
Wo  lid  never  he  found  by  a  careless  nnd  unreflectin^r  reader ; 
yet  the  work  is  exceedingly  artistic,  and  there  are  few  things 
in  recent  poetry  so  praisewortiiy  as  the  (|uiet  nnd  unol)trusivo 
way  in  which  the  theme  is  treated.  In  ii  work  written  upon 
this  noble  symbolic  method,  one  is  never  sure  of  e.aictli/  stat- 
ing the  author's  meaning,  —  indeed,  as  wc  have  said  of  iShake- 
spearc,  the  meaning  ia  too  full  to'be  stated  more  briefly  than 
by  the  whole  poem  ;  but  we  arc  sure  that  we  are  not  far  from 
the  writer's  intention,  when  wc  say,  that  in  Saul  he  repre- 
sents a  man  who  is  (iiiiiicnlli/  the  creature  of  spiritual  influ- 
ences ;  who  is  of  the  hai)i)iest  sensitive  and  perceptive  con- 
stitution, but  lacks  the  one  thing  needful,  the  principle  of 
faith,  which  would  have  given  the  will  to  submit  himself  to 
the  good  influence  and  resi.st  the  bad.  "  Faith  wanting,  all  his 
works  fell  short,"  is  the  only  explicit  statement  in  the  whole 
poem  of  this  idea  ;  but  the  whole  poem  indirectly  implies  it. 
This  view  of  Saul's  character,  which  is  amply  justilicd  by 
Scripture  history,  is  carried  out  and  illustrated  with  an  eUbo- 
rate  subtlety  of  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  give  our  Head- 
ers an  adecpiate  idea.  The  evil  spirit  of  the  King  is  brought 
personally,  under  the  name  of  Malzah,  ujjon  the  stage ;  and 
wo  are  made  to  understand  Saul's  nature,  nnd  tho  nature  of 
nil  who  are  the  more  or  less  passive  slaves  of  natural  and 
spiritual  influences  06  extra,  by  the  exaggeration  of  this  char- 
acter in  the  spirit  himself,  who  is  depicted  with  an  imagina- 
tive veracity  which  we  do  not  exaggerate  in  saying  has  not 
been  equalled  in  our  language  by  any  but  the  creator  of  Cali- 
ban and  Ariel.  Malzah  is  decidedly  "well  disposed  '"  ' 
many  another  evil  spirit,  human  or  c-flunvise  ;  ho  kno 
fuults;  is  almost  changed,  for  the  moment,  into  a  good  rit 
by  artistic  influences,  especially  music  ;  he  has  attained  to  1 


■  liiiiii 


REVIEW  OF  THE  FIRST  EDJ J70X. 


n  deep  philosopher  throuf;h  the  habitual  ol)S(;nation  of  him- 
self; and  does  not  at  all  like  the  evil  work  of  destroying  the 
soul  of  Saul,  —  a  work  which  he  undertook  voluntarily,  and 
to  whieh  ho  returns  an  the  fit  takes  him.  The  followinj;  pas- 
saf^os  will  carry  out  what  wo  have  said,  and  will  illustrate  the 
oddity,  subtlety,  and  orij^inality  of  this  writer's  lanjri!n;;e. 
Malxah  tries  to  exonerate  himself,  in  soliloquy,  from  tbt*  ;;uilt 
of  destroyin;^  Saul :  — 

1  'vo  had  no  part  In  this.    I  'in  sorry,  too, 

(Like  tlioo,  0  King,)  tijat  ovor  I  raini«  to  tlipc. 

ZoumlH !  why,  I  ought  to  have  stronj?  penaurt!  set  me, 

Or  else  he  branded  with  some  sign  of  Hhiinio 

For  having  volunteered  for  Ium  uudning. 

There  'h  no  essential  honor  nor  good  I'  the  world. 

But  a  pure  selfishness  is  all  in  all. 

Nay,  I  could  curse  my  demonhood,  and  wish 

Myself  to  be  thrice  lost  for  that  behavior ;  — 

But  I  believe  I  am  a  very  mean-aouled  spirit. 

Kvcn  finer  than  this  flipjuint,  imbecile,  and  impotent  penitence 
of  Malzah  is  the  following  soiij;,  which  seems  to  us  to  be 
scarcely  short  of  Shakespearian  :  — 

There  was  a  devil,  and  his  name  was  I ; 

From  out  Profundus  he  did  cry  ; 

He  changed  his  note  as  ho  changed  his  coat, 

And  his  coat  was  of  a  varying  dye; 

It  had  many  a  hue  :  in  hell  't  was  blue, 

'T  was  green  i'  the  sea,  and  white  i'  the  sky. 

0,  do  not  ask  me,  ask  me  why 

'T  was  green  i'  the  sea  and  wliite  i'  the  sky. 

Why  fVom  Profundus  he  did  cry. 

Suffice  that  he  wailed  with  a  chirruping  note  ; 

And  quaintly  cut  was  his  motley  coat. 

Saul  enters  in  a  gloomy  passion.    Malzali  says  :  — 

Now  is  my  time : 
I  '11  enter  him,  that  lie  may  work  his  doom  : 
His  mind's  defences  are  blown  down  by  pa-ssion, 
And  I  can  enter  him  unchallenged,  as 
A  traveller  does  an  inn,  and,  when  I  'm  there. 
He  is  liiniself  so  much  now  like  a  demon. 
He  will  not  notice  me. 


4  REVIEW  OF  THE  FIRST  EDITIU.V. 

In  this  poem,  for  the  first  time,  spirits  liave  been  reprcscntctl 
in  a  manner  which  fully  justifies  the  boldness  involved  in  rep- 
resenting them  at  all.  Malzah  is  a  living  character^  as  true 
to  supcrnaturc  as  Hamlet  or  P'alstaff  are  to  nature  ;  and,  by 
this  continuation,  as  it  were,  of  humanity  into  new  circum- 
stances, and  another  world,  we  are  taught  to  look  upon  hu- 
manity itself  from  a  fresh  point  of  view,  and  we  seem  to  obtain 
new  and  startling  impressions  of  the  awful  character  of  the 
influences  by  which  we  are  beset.  Seldom  has  art  so  well 
performed  the  office  of  handmaiden  to  religion  as  in  this  ex- 
traordinary character  of  Malzah,  in  whom  we  have  the  dis- 
embodiment of  the  soul  of  the  faithless,  sophistical,  brave, 
and  generously  disposed  king  of  Israel,  and  a  most  impressive 
poetical  exposition  of  the  awful  truth,  that  he  who  is  not 
wholly  for  God  is  against  him.  For  proof  of  our  opinion 
we  can  only  refer  the  reader  to  the  entire  work,  of  which  a  few 
separate  passages  are  no  tests  whatever In  proof,  how- 
ever, that  this  writer  is  a  poet  of  no  commori  order  we  apjiend 
a  few  sentences,  taken  almost  at  random  from  hundreds  which 
we  have  marked. 

Saul  has  vowed  the  death  of  David :  — 

Qiteen.    Now,  my  dear  husband,  come  and  take  some  rest. 

iSlaMZ.  Yes,  when  I  've  done  what  I  have  vowed  to  do. 
I  am  bencatb  the  tyranny  of  a  vow. 
Which  I  will  honor  whilst  I  am  eclipsed. 
That  I  hereafter  a  ay  have  power  to  plead 
I  did  it  in  the  darkness.     'T  \&  the  fiend : 
He  darkens,  yet  illuminates,  my  mind, 
Like  the  black  heavens  when  lightnings  ride  the  wind- 

Malzah  is  seen  winging  his  way  towards  the  palace  of  the 
King,  whom  he  has  been  commissioned  to  possess  :  — 

Lo,  where  yon  demon,  with  increasing  speed, 
Makes  his  dim  way  across  the  night-huug  flood, 
Due  to  the  llobrcw  King,  with  onward  hoed, 
Like  to  a  hound  that  snufis  the  scent  of  blood. 

Saul,  like  Polonius,  is  full  of  wisdom,  though  if  goes  no 
further  than  las  words  ;  for  example  :  — 


mmmnmmi' 


REVIEW  OF  THE  FIKST  EDITION. 


Full  many  things  are  best  forgot ;  and  all 
The  drosg  of  life,  men's  vices  and  their  failings, 
Should  from  our  luomorios  be  lot  slip  away, 
As  drops  the  damaged  fruit  from  off  tlie  bough 
Ere  comes  the  autumn.     It  were  wise,  nay,  just, 
To  strike  with  men  a  balance ;  to  forgive, 
If  not  forget,  their  evil  for  their  good's  sake. 
The  good  thus  cherished,  banished  thus  the  bad, 
As  the  refiner  from  the  charged  alembic 
Removes  the  scum  that  clouds  the  precious  ore. 
We  shall  grow  rich  in  life's  pure  gold,  aud  lose 
Only  its  base  alloy,  its  dross  and  refuse. 

The  following  is  one  of  many  passages  wliich,  by  creating 
an  intelligence  of  the  grentness  and  subtlety  of  Saul's  temp- 
tations, render  his  example  more  affecting  and  fearful.    Abner, 
in  re^ly  to  Saul's  laiaentations  over  his  liability  to  the  appar 
ently  irresistible  possessions  of  the  evil  spirit,  says  :  — 

Jehovah's  ways  are  dark. 

Saul.  If  they  bo  just,  I  care  not : 

I  can  endure  till  death  relieve  me  ;  ay, 
And  not  complain ;  but  doubt  enfeebles  me, 
And  my  strong  heart,  that  gladdeth  to  endure, 
Falters  'neath  its  misgivings,  and,  vexed,  beats 
Into  the  speed  of  fever,  when  it  thinks 
That  the  Almighty  greater  is  than  good. 


